Internal Medicine
by VirchowsTriadDuet
Summary: I've been coated in the blood of strangers before; med school wasn't easy. It's so different when the person you're trying to save happens to be one of your best friends and the attacker was a demon you thought wasn't real. How did I get here? The story of how I came to know the Winchesters starts with a demon named Francesca, an angel named Cas, and a spot on the most wanted list.
1. Internal Medicine

Author's Note: Hiya, fellas! Vivi here. I just wanted to introduce this, my very first attempt at writing SPN AU fan fiction. I'm still getting used to this site, so please excuse any formatting errors. I need to address a few things before we begin. This story needs a few TRIGGER warnings: themes of self hate, brief memories of self harm, and a few mildly violent fight scenes are included in this and/or following chapters that result in hurt characters. Please avoid reading this if you struggle with any of these. It's totally not worth reading if it hurts you. Let me know what you think!

The floor was cold. The air was cold. The lamp was cold. My bed was warm. But then again, so was my heart. I just kept right on beating, no matter what.

I stretched as I grabbed my pink polka-dot robe from where it hung off of my top dresser drawer. It was one of my favorite thrift store finds. The guys never would have gotten it for me had I not smiled for the first time in weeks at the sight of it.

Outside my door, it was cold and dark. The tile did nothing to hold in the heat from the old boiler system, which was turned off every night and on every morning by some yet still hidden machine somewhere in the depths of the bunker.

I could deal with the cold. I'd lived in it for so long, it seemed like an old friend. But the dark was something that still wrung my soul and made my breath catch in my chest. I'd lived in the dark for a long time too. It was a place I avoided at all costs and yet still fell into almost every day.

The familiar icy metal of the light switch drew the tense breath from my lips. I glanced up and down the hall. The guys weren't up yet. It must be about five in the morning. I drew in a deep breath and savored the musty, old smell. This was the closest to home I'd felt in months.

Of all the things in the kitchen that were electric, the coffee machine and the microwave were the only ones from the most recent decade. The scent of coffee grounds filled my nose and I pulled my headphones and generic MP3 player from where they lived in my robe pocket. Music calmed me like nothing else. It gave the voice in my head something besides me to focus on; it left me alone when I had music playing. The playlists were mostly instrumental music, which let me drift into a world where words were not needed and I could feel truly free within my own head. But I also had some pop songs that I loved and could sing to when the guys were away. I smiled as soft, slow piano music began pouring forth, filling my brain and masking the sound of eggs cracking to the big ceramic bowl.

Soon, breakfast was sizzling on the huge eight burner gas stove. Hash browns, bacon, eggs both scrabbled and omelet style with veggies and turkey, crepes to be filled with fruit, and a few blueberry pancakes filled my mind with good memories of my childhood and I found myself dancing my own goofy jig to a remix of some song about rainbows with a sticky spatula in hand. I closed my eyes and enjoyed this easy feeling, the warmth from the stove, the cool tile underfoot, the knowledge that I was safe and someone cared about me.

It seemed like the blink of an eye and the meal was complete. I turned the burners down to just keep the food warm until the boys woke up. I glanced around the kitchen. They weren't silently watching me from the doorjamb, as they sometimes did when I would get really into a song. However, the coffee pot was about half empty; someone was awake. I took my headphones out and turned the music off, carefully tucking it all back into my pocket. I went to the coffee machine and poured a cup. The hallway light was still on as I made my way down, past my room, to see if their doors were open yet.

I smelled the coffee before I even got to Dean's room. He was back in bed, laptop up, headphones on, a weary look on his face. He glanced up as I hesitated in his doorway. I mouthed "food's ready" and he donned a sleepy smile. I kept on down the hall until I got to Sam's room. His door opened just as I arrived.

"Morning." He said quickly, rubbing his eyes and yawning. His hair was hilarious mess. I smiled and handed him the cup of hot coffee. He smiled and thanked me for it.

"Breakfast is ready." I said.

He chuckled. "You know, you don't have to make us breakfast every morning. We survived years without that kind of treatment."

I smiled somewhat more morosely than planned and said, "It helps me relax and stop thinking for a while. Sometimes it's the only thing I have to look forward to in the morning, and that's enough."

Sam frowned. "Ali, if you ever need to talk, we're here for you. You know that right?"

I looked away and faked my best smile. "Of course." There was no way my inner voice would let me pour my heart out to either Winchester. She was ruthless and wanted nothing more than to see me go down in flames. I looked back to Sam, the smile still on my face. He did not seem convinced.

Just then, Dean made his way out of his room and towards the kitchen, coffee in hand, scratchy gray robe warding off the cold. The boilers wouldn't be on for another half hour.

"Breakfast." I said cheerfully, turning to follow him. My silent hopes were recognized as Sam didn't press the issue but resigned to join the breakfast brigade.

Dean was always kind enough to leave some for the rest of us if he got to the food first. After a few weeks, I noticed he left more of the veggie filled things, of which Sam generally took more, so I started making more of that and less of the artery clogging goodness that Dean and I loved.

"Are those chocolate chip pancakes?" Dean asked from across the room through a mouthful of egg.

"Blueberry." I answered. "Fresh, actually. From the farmer's market in town. Sam picked them up for me."

"Go team." Dean said, pouring a small pond of syrup over the stack.

The amount those two could eat never ceased to amaze me. I felt like every week I'd add an extra couple of servings to the prep of each meal in the hopes of having leftovers, but every week, there was a pile of empty pans in the sink. Thankfully, Sam usually washed the bigger pans and pots for me. I had trouble holding them with soapy wet hands. I think he got tired of hearing them crash down into the sink, making them come in to see what had happened.

Towards the end of our normally silent meals, Dean spoke up. "Heard anything from Cas recently?"

"Nothing." Sam didn't look up from his omelet.

"Ali? Anything?"

I avoided eye contact. Cas and I weren't exactly on the best of terms. I was actually surprised that Dean had even mentioned him around me. I shook my head and pushed a hash brown around and around on my plate.

"Ali, you know he didn't mean to-" Sam spoke up.

"I know." I cut him short, not wanting to relive the memory.

"Don't push it." Dean said, looking up. I knew he would shoot Sam a warning glance. Sam usually knew when I was having those rare bad days. He knew to give me space, but to not leave the bunker unless he absolutely had to. Last time, they left to go out to a bar during a bad day. That was the day they came home at three in the morning to me bleaching the kitchen with no gloves. My hands were red and raw for almost two weeks. At the time, I hadn't cared. The voice told me it didn't matter.

After that, when they went to do a job they left me with Cas. My bad days had been further apart since settling into the bunker, but the bleach episode had left them weary. Long story short, Cas and I had run into a pack of demons while grocery shopping and somehow the angel launched me through the cereal shelves in the breakfast aisle. He killed the demons, sure, but he also knocked me out and broke three ribs. I woke up in the bunker, in my bed. Cas had called Dean and Sam back; they'd only left that morning. They'd pulled chairs into my room and were, of course, doing research while waiting for me to wake up. Cas had healed the ribs before he even left he market, but when I woke up and saw him, I screamed. I was out the door before they even knew what was happening. I almost made it out the front door of the bunker before Dean caught up to me and pulled me close. He managed to calm me down, but I couldn't even look at Cas without shaking. Needless to say, they still left me with Cas, but he stayed invisible the whole time. They told me he wasn't there, but I knew he was. Occasionally, I'd catch a glimpse of him as I rounded a corner quickly or when I turned the lights on in the morning. Those sightings always made my heart pound and my hands shake like leaves on a windy day.

"Sorry." Sam said. Dean took his dish to the sink and washed it before refilling his cup and heading for the library. Sam washed the dishes and left me alone at the table, trying desperately to not think.

When the water turned off, I was surprised to see him sit down opposite me. I looked up and met his gaze. "Do you need anything?" He asked.

I thought through my mental to do list. I was going to mop the floors today. Groceries? "Cranberry juice. And butter. We're running low." I said.

Sam smirked. "Not groceries. I can see the list you've got on the fridge. Do you need anything?"

I frowned. What did it matter if I needed anything? The thought made no sense to me. "No."

"Nothing?" He pressed.

"No."

Sam hesitated before continuing. "This is one of those days for you, I think, and Dean and I are probably gonna chase down a vampire lead in Oklahoma. Another hunter called yesterday about it. Said he could use a few more hands. Are you going to be okay by yourself for a few days?"

"I always am." I said, trying to seem as cheerful as possible.

Sam's mouth pulled down at the side. "Call us if anything happens. Call us before anything happens."

"Okay. You do the same." I said. Sam's smile was sad as he stood up and walked out to the library, leaving me alone in the cold kitchen. "I'll have Cas with me anyway." I whispered bitterly to the cold hash brown as it continued making laps around my plate.

They packed up and left before seven. I went back to bed for a while. I usually did that when they left. It was a way to fill the hours. Before the incident with Cas, he and I would go grocery shopping, or to the thrift store to get clothes and bedding, or just to the park so I could breathe fresh air and stretch my legs. Since I could no longer look at Cas without shaking, I mostly just stayed in the bunker. Scratch that, I only stayed in the bunker. They didn't like me going out without someone. The demons had my scent and they knew that I meant something to the Winchesters. I didn't want to become a playing piece in that game, so I resigned myself to the damp, dark corridors and stale air of the subterranean stronghold.

Author's Note: Don't forget to let me know what you think! I appreciate the feedback.


	2. The Side Effects of Morphine

A/N: Vivi here. Please note: this chapter has hurt!Cas and a rather thorough depiction of his injuries. Sorry these chapters are so short. That's just how they turn out sometimes! As always, please review. I'm loving the feedback.

I woke up several hours later to a soft clanging sound. I hadn't gotten into REM sleep, which kept the nightmares away, but the soft sound was enough to bring me out of the shallow sleep I had accomplished. It pulled me out of bed and beckoned me to the front door. Cautiously, I made my way up the stairs and peered through the tiny, one way peep hole. There stood a figure bathed in afternoon light, leaning on the door and holding their stomach. The figure wore that trademark trench coat. I was mildly surprised; I'd thought he had been here since the Winchesters left. I grabbed the bag of salt by the door and poured some of it into the little trench just inside the door before opening it just a few inches.

"Allison." Cas panted, obviously in pain.

A wave of panic and animalistic fear washed over me and I had to close my eyes and focus on breathing until it passed. With my eyes still closed, I forced myself to open the door enough for him to get in. I opened my eyes just in time to seek him stumble through the door and catch himself on the railing. I pushed the thick iron door closed and locked it, finding some comfort in the loud clang of the deadbolt. After a few deep breaths and a personal pep talk I turned around and looked at Cas.

He was breathing heavily but it seemed to catch in his throat with every breath. My hands started to shake and flash images of the fight at the market flew across my mind. I swallowed hard and told myself to get a grip. Cas was still a friend. He deserved help right now, not blind fear.

There was blood on his trench coat and the white shirt underneath. He was holding the railing with one hand and his stomach with the other. I noticed immediately that he didn't look up at me.

"Allison." He said again. He didn't seem to know what else to say. I could tell he was hesitant to ask for help from me.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly; my hands shook a little less. "Cas, what happened to you?" I took a few steps and put my shaking hand on his back. The sensation was like trying to push through a heavy door, though my hand was only moving through air. I tried to get him to look at me.

"Demons ambushed me with weapons warded for angels. These wounds… I can't seem to heal them. I didn't know where else to go." He said softly. "Are Sam and Dean here?"

My eyebrows rose a bit. If Cas couldn't sense whether or not the boys were here from this close, something was very wrong. "No, they left a few hours ago. Vampires in Oklahoma."

He hung his head even lower. I didn't know if it was from shame or exhaustion.

I felt my face soften. "Let's get you fixed up."

Cas swallowed hard and nodded at the ground. "Please." He said. I took his arm, causing my hands and arms to shake violently as the panic reared up again. I managed to power through it and put his arm around my shoulders. Together, we made it down the stairs and to a seat in the library.

"Allison, I know this is hard for you. I want you to know that I regret my actions and I apologize for the consequences." He winced as he settled in the chair and I returned his arm to a comfortable position.

"I know." I said, fetching the medical kit from a nearby bookshelf. I quickly put on a pair of gloves. "Where did they hurt you?"

"My stomach and my chest. My forehead too, I think." I returned to find him trying pitifully to remove the trench coat. Without thinking, and without shaking, I helped him slip it off and over the back of the chair, since he was sitting on part of it. The shirt was shredded and soaked with blood. I decided to get rid of it and the once blue tie as soon as I was finished patching him up. The shirt was actually so shredded that I only had to undo two buttons before he was able to get it off.

His skin didn't look much better than the shirt, but there was so much red that I couldn't easily gauge the damage. I ran and grabbed several clean towels and a bowl of hot water from the kitchen. Once most of the slick blood was removed, the raw, brilliantly red cuts stood out. In the deepest parts of some I could see a faint blue glow. This was the first time I'd seen his tattoo. I knew from awkward encounters around the bunker that Sam and Dean had tattoos on their chests, but Cas' was very different. It was symbols, writing that was foreign to me.

I shook my head and focused back in on the task at hand. A small round pill from the kit was placed in Cas' hand and I told him to swallow. Morphine should help with the pain; it certainly wouldn't hurt, even if it didn't work on the angel.

Cas' breathing was still labored when he spoke up a few minutes later, as I was setting aside another blood soaked towel. "You stopped shaking."

I glanced down at my hands, holding a clean, wet towel, and sure enough, they weren't shaking. "I guess so." I said, taking the clean towel to his forehead this time. There was a relatively shallow laceration above his left eye and into his hairline. It wouldn't need stitches, I didn't think.

"Why?" He asked. I pulled a bag of saline from the well-stocked kit and cut a small hole in it.

"I guess I'm just falling into old habits. It's kind of comforting." I said. He winced when I squirted the saline through his lacerations to remove any foreign material.

"Old habits? Have you had medical training?" I handed him a gauze pad.

"Hold that against your head, right here." I guided his hand and the gauze to cover the cut on his head. "Push hard to stop the bleeding. Head wounds bleed like crazy."

Cas waited patiently for an answer until I met his gaze. I rolled my eyes and pulled five suture packs from the kit, setting them on the table. With our eyes locked, I wondered whether or not I could- or should- open up to Cas about my past. There were still a lot of things that stung and throbbed when I thought about them. Things that made my lungs seize up and my throat tighten. However, I decided that this one bit of information was okay to give away.

"Yes, Cas. I've had medical training. Did the morphine kick in yet?" My attention quickly turned to his breathing, which had lightened significantly.

"I do not feel as much pain, if that's what you are asking." He said calmly.

"Good. Try to sit as still as you can. This might still hurt a little." I opened a suture pack and set to work bringing the edges of the wounds closer together. The bleeding lightened up as I closed more and more of them, and finally, once all the lacerations were closed and a lot more than five suture wrappers lay on the floor, it stopped for the most part. I rubbed the area down with antiseptic and covered most of his torso with gauze and tape. By the time I was done, I saw his eyelids starting to fall.

"Allison, there appear to be some side effects to the morphine." He slurred softly. His hand had fallen from his head over the edge of the chair, allowing that cut to start bleeding again. I used some skin glue to close it and stop the bleeding for the time being.

"That's normal. I guess your vessel responds to drugs, huh? At least in your current state." I checked over my handiwork and, satisfied, stood in front of him taking my gloves off. He was almost asleep. "Cas, wake up."

"Mmm-hm." His head lifted but his eyes only half opened.

I smiled sympathetically. "Let's get you into a nice, soft bed." Once again, I put his arm over my shoulders and we walked slowly and carefully to my bedroom. I didn't want to disrupt Sam or Dean's room; it seemed impolite. Cas settled into the red plaid thrift store sheets and was sleeping even before I covered him with a blanket. Guilt stirred in my stomach; my room was mess.

I bleached the floors, wearing thick latex gloves, and disposed of the bloody towels and shirt. I threw the trench coat, which was undamaged, into the washing machine for a hot water, sterilization cycle. The washer was one thing I had actually managed to convince the Winchesters to buy for me. I was still trying for a dryer, but for the moment, a clothes line in the garage would have to do.

By the time I was done cleaning up, it was already late afternoon. I had a quick lunch of microwave macaroni and cheese before pulling out the industrial mop and bucket. It usually took me all day to mop the floors, so I decided to just do the entry, the war room, and the library before bed.

When I finished mopping I checked on Cas, who was still sound asleep in my bed. The gauze that was showing above the blanket was only slightly red, which was a good sign. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe the Winchester brothers would like to know what had happened today. If they needed Cas, he couldn't come. If they were worried about me being around him or he around I… After a few seconds of deliberation and some input from the inner voice, I decided against calling them. They might come back and abandon their case, which would put people in danger. Perhaps I'd call tomorrow.

I pulled a cot from the supply closet where the mop lived and set it up between bookshelves in the library. I wanted to put it in the hall just outside my room, so I could keep an eye on Cas, but that hallway scared me when it was dark. The library was much less intimidating, and somehow managed to hold some heat in from the boilers throughout the night. I pulled the fleece blanket close around me and relied on it and my robe to get me through the night.

A/N: Review please!


	3. The Call

A/N: Vivi here! Thanks so much to those who have reviewed so far. The feedback is super helpful. Please keep up with the reviews. Let me know what you like, what you don't like, and where I can improve!

The next morning, the alarm on my old flip phone went off at its usual five a.m. and banished the nightmare back into oblivion. Groggy, I walked to my room to check on Cas, who still slept in the same position. His breathing was noticeably deeper than yesterday and his face looked so serene. I found myself wondering how often he actually got to rest. Even angels needed rest, I was sure.

Breakfast was another microwave special. A breakfast burrito. I nearly burned my throat scarfing the steaming thing down. That mop was calling my name. Not literally, but the voice in my head stressed to me the importance of finishing my task without delay.

By noon, all the floors in the bunker shone brightly and smelled of a rich pine forest. I put everything away and went to my bedroom, eager to see Cas awake and maybe get some clean clothes for myself.

Cas was indeed finally awake. He was rubbing his eyes when I came in.

"Good morning, sleepy head." I said softly.

Cas groaned and tried to prop himself up on his elbows. "How long was I unconscious?"

"You were asleep for almost eighteen hours." I said with my hands on my hips.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed the rest, Cas. Humans in your position would have been hospitalized for at least two days." I walked over and sat on the end of my bed. A fresh wave of panic and anxiety washed over me when I caught a glimpse of the frustration on Cas' face. It was a face similar to anger. I had to close my eyes and clench my hands to keep them from shaking. I had been doing so well these last two days…

Cas must have seen the pained look on my face and the way my jaw surely tensed in that moment. When I opened my eyes, he looked hurt, but not from the physical pain. "Allison, I-" He stopped short, breaking eye contact and looking around the room as if searching for words. "I want to thank you for helping me."

My eyes rolled and the shaking in my hands eased up a little. "Cas, you don't have to thank me. You're my friend and I would have done it whether my hands shook or not."

He seemed surprised. "We're… still friends?"

I snorted. "Of course. Just because my vessel reacts to you doesn't mean we can't be friends."

His eyes narrowed this time and suspicion colored his voice. "Your vessel reacts?" I saw him look around discretely for his blade, which I had placed on the night stand in case he needed it. For comfort, for protection, for anything. He found it quickly and returned his gaze to me.

"I'm human, Cas. You know that. Remember this ugly little pendant?" I removed the anti-possession pendant that had hung around my neck since my arrival at the bunker from my shirt to show him. "Don't freak out. It just helps me make sense of my situations sometimes to think of my mind and soul as separate from my body." I shrugged. "It's silly, I know."

He was visibly more relaxed now. "You humans continue to confound me." There came a mighty roar from deep within the sheets of my bed.

I giggled to myself. "Are you hungry?"

Cas' eyes were wide and seemed a little frightened as he looked up to me. "I have not felt like this since before I got my grace back. I do not know what is happening to me."

"Well, I saw some of your grace through those cuts yesterday, so your mojo is still intact. It's probably just a side effect of the warding on those blades. Before I forget again, let me find you some warm clothes." I headed to the supply closet, which also housed the washer, and found a basket of clean clothes, already dried and folded. I wasn't sure if they were Dean's or Sam's but I found a white tee shirt and a thick looking tan cardigan with buttons down the front. Probably something one of them wore to interview victims or their families. Cas looked skeptical when I presented the clothes, but accepted them nonetheless. As he dressed, I riffled through my dresser for a pair of jeans and a sweater. "I'll be back in a minute and then we can find you some lunch."

The clean clothes felt wonderful; my favorite sweater always made me smile. It was soft, green cashmere with a plaid collar and tail made of cotton. It wasn't the prettiest thing, but I loved it. It had been a gift from Dean after he saw my lips go blue during a particularly cold morning a few weeks ago. I threw my greasy brown hair into a ponytail and went back to my room in time to help Cas stand without tearing his stitches. He was still feeling pain, but much less now. We walked to the kitchen and I leaned on the counter as he sat at the table.

"What can I get you, sir?" I asked. "I've never fed an angel before, so I have no idea what you like."

Cas thought for a moment, placing a hand on his stomach while letting his gaze wander a thousand miles away. Then his eyes snapped to me. "Do you have peanut butter?"

"We do."

"And grape jelly?" He seemed hopeful.

"Yes, and we even have bread." I smiled as his smile grew and his eyes shined like that of a child's on Christmas. "A PB and J then?"

"If it's not too much trouble. I could make my own…" He said, mentally preparing to stand and face the pain.

"Stay there." I said sternly. I already had the ingredients out and ready for assembly. "Do you want anything to drink? You should stay hydrated. If you're hungry, then you've gotta be thirsty too. We have milk, water, orange juice, coffee…"

"Water, please." I set the sandwich in front of him and grabbed a bottle of water for him and one for myself. Sitting opposite him, I was surprised by the level of enjoyment he got from the sandwich. He couldn't stop smiling.

"If's been years fince I've veen avle to enjoy food." He spoke with his mouth full, and I had to laugh.

"Slow down. You'll give yourself a stomach ache." I smiled too.

He set the sandwich down and drank half the bottle of water. Then we locked eyes. "Thank you for caring for me, Allison. This is more kindness than I've received in a long time." I noticed his eyes start to tear up and he looked away.

"Wow, those hormones and human emotions really came back with a bang, didn't they?" I laughed, handing him a napkin to wipe his tears away. "Really, Cas, don't mention it."

"Have you not told Sam and Dean?" He asked. My eyes widened as if I'd been caught in some kind of crime. I didn't have to tell them everything all the time.

"No, but I didn't mean literally don't mention it. It's a just a saying, like you don't have to thank me for anything." I said, but then sighed. "I didn't call them last night. Do you think I should've? I know they're hunting, and I don't want them to worry about me, or you for that matter."

"They should know I'm here with you. They may not want that to continue." Cas said, clearly stressed about the situation. He hadn't picked his sandwich up yet.

I sighed in frustration. "They don't need to know every detail of my life. I'm a big girl, Cas."

"Have you told them why I brought you here to live with them?" He asked. The sandwich seemed to have fallen from his attention completely.

"No. They don't need to know." I said, looking at the shining floor. The beginnings of embarrassment and shame spread across my face. "I told them I had no one to go back to. That and what you told them was enough for them, apparently." I paused for a few seconds. "They stopped asking after my first anxiety attack."

Cas shook his head. "I only told them about your probable post-traumatic stress disorder. Allison, if they knew, they could more efficiently help you cope."

I stood and walked towards the library but turned. The venom in my voice was harsher than I had intended it to be. "I don't want them to know. I don't want them to pity me or look at me differently or put their guard up around me. I'm dealing with this my own way, Cas. I don't need their help."

As soon as I left the kitchen, I felt terrible for talking to Cas like that. Tears sprang to my lashes and silent sobs raked my body. Since I arrived at the bunker, my emotions had been so unstable. Ashamed of myself once again, I went through the front door. The cold weather always stung my skin when I left. The sudden warmth of the bunker after the freezing weather outside also stung. I stood outside in the cool April air, sobbing like a child. Sam and Dean would be upset if they knew I'd left the bunker, but I didn't care. I started walking down the road as if I was leaving my problems in the bunker.

I hadn't made it very far when footsteps reached my ears from behind me. Terror seized my body and I whipped around, only to see Cas in the distance.

"Allison, stop." He said. The trip had winded him, I could tell. I slowed, but couldn't stop. "Please, Allison." I dug my heel into the dirt. I'd left without shoes, I noticed.

"I'm sorry Cas." I said softly, wiping my puffy eyes. "I didn't mean to be so rude to you."

He planted a hand on my shoulder, and I turned around. "I called Dean when you left."

I frowned and looked anywhere but at Cas.

"He and Sam found out another hunter had taken care of the vampire nest and they were on their way back when I reached them." He took a breath and held his stomach. "They're about an hour away."

I panicked. They'd be furious that I didn't call them. They'd be furious that I left the bunker. They'd be furious that I let Cas in. The voice in my head told me so. In fact, the voice was shouting it. I swatted Cas' hand off of my shoulder and took several steps back. My hands shook with renewed vigor.

Cas' eyes grew wide and he held his hands out as if he were trying to calm a wild animal. "Allison, let me take you back to the bunker."

I retreated several steps more. He took one step towards me and I turned tail and ran as fast as I could from the angel. He shouted after me, but there was no way he'd be able to catch me in his shape. Tears blurred my vision as I sprinted. I ran as far as I could as fast as I could. When I finally had to stop, I had no idea where I was or how long I'd been running. Cornfields surrounded me, stripped bare after the harvest. The road ahead of me stretched straight as far as I could see. The road behind me was stippled with red spots. I looked down. My feet were bleeding.

In the distance, I saw a stop sign. My feet were already numb, so I wandered over and took a left at the next road.

I must have been wandering for hours. No cars passed me. I never even heard an engine. The air was getting colder around me; I was sure it would frost tonight.

Eventually, I looked up from the road at my feet. A small patch of trees, maybe four acres, was to my left. I entered without thinking and sat on a rotting log. My face fell into my hands and I cried as my mind warred with the voice. I cried as my memories clashed with the kindness I had just left behind in the bunker. I cried as my feet slowly regained their feeling and was comforted by the pain. Physical pain was so much better than what I felt in my head.

I don't know how long I sat there, but it was dark when I looked up again. I felt like I was ambushed. The dark closed in around me and suffocated me. I couldn't breathe; I couldn't see the stars or the trees or even the road.

In my panic, this time I did something I haven't done in a long time. I prayed.

"Cas?" It was all I could manage to say. The black abyss seemed to stifle even the smallest sound I made. It held me perfectly still.

Closing my eyes helped a little, but there were strange noises all around me. Animals moved deeper in the woods, or in the fields. Bugs chirped, or birds maybe… And something was flying around, through the trees. Bats, I thought. Their screech was unnerving. If I could just move, maybe I could scare everything into silence…

After a while, the panic had not waned even a fraction. I was paralyzed. I felt like I was locked back in my head, shoved so far away that darkness was all I could see, was all I could feel and breathe and hear. But I could feel tears streaming down my face, cooling lines on my otherwise flushed face.

My eyes were squeezed shut so hard that I heard the footsteps before I saw the flashlight.

My eyes shot open and I was finally able to stand. I barely noticed the freezing cold ground beneath me as I caught myself from falling forward. My arms rose to shield my eyes from the brilliant white beam.

"Allison?" A voice called.

"Sam." I breathed in relief, stumbling towards the light. I was exhausted and I fell onto my knees a few feet before I could reach him. He had been walking to meet me and immediately knelt down, putting his hands on my shoulders. I met his gaze but was having trouble keeping my head up. I could tell that he was shaking me slightly, probably trying to wake me up. Something wet fell on my head from behind. It was warm, but cooled and hurt, like it was freezing to my scalp.

Sam scoffed. "Really Dean?"

A voice came from behind me and I tensed up. "We gotta be sure."

Sam felt as my muscles started to give out and shook me again to bring me back to reality. "Ali. Hey. Stay with me."

I lifted my head and nodded, swallowing what felt like a rock in my throat.

"We should get her back to the bunker." Dean said. He took my left arm, Sam my right, and together they lifted me off the dense leaf litter on the forest floor and onto my feet. Sam left and I almost fell again. My knees gave out and my world went into a tail spin. "Whoa there." Dean moved to keep me from face planting and threw one of my arms over his shoulder before picking me up. I felt him move his hand along my lower leg. He started running. Why was he running?

"Dean?" I heard Sam call. A flashlight made my eyes squeeze shut.

"She's lost a lot of blood." Dean said urgently. I felt a rush of warm air on my face and I was suddenly laying on a smooth, soft surface. There was a loud hum all around me and I was moving.

"Ali!" Dean shouted. I gasped and tried to find something to hold on to. Something to ground myself with, since my world was spinning again. Tiny white and black circles blocked my vision.

"Dean. Sam. I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry." My voice sounded slurred when it reached my ears. I felt my head smack down onto the seat and I focused on breathing.

"Just stay awake, okay?" Sam said, peering over the front seat.

A/N: Just another request to review! Thanks!


	4. Baseball Stitches

**A/N: Vivi here! I hope you are enjoying getting to know Allison. This chapter drops a few big reveals into her past, so stick around! Just as an aside, I've already written quite a few chapters, which is why these are getting posted in such quick succession. As always, let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

I gasped as I woke up again. The monster in my nightmare dissolved away. Sam was gone. Dean was gone. I was again in darkness. Without thinking, I leapt up and ran headlong into something hard. A sharp pain ripped at my arm and shot up from my feet. Momentarily stunned, I froze. Something was stirring in the darkness. Turning away from the hard thing, I lifted my arms, preparing for a fight.

A bright light shone. I was blinded. As my eyes adjusted, I saw Sam watching me from next to the light switch. Dean was standing on my other side. He looked ready for a fight, just like me.

"Easy now." Dean said, moving slowly towards me. I shook my head to clear it and looked around.

We were in a hospital room. I'd run into the door. The sharp pain was an IV being torn from my arm. Where it had been was now a small, steady stream of dark red liquid. My feet and lower legs were wrapped in thick bandages. I was in a hospital gown.

"What happened?" I whispered, fear evident in my voice.

"Cas told us that you had a meltdown. You weren't yourself." Sam said gently. He carefully took my arm and helped me back to the hospital bed. Each step was like walking on hot coals.

"You lost like a quart of blood." Dean said, settling back into the chair that I guessed he'd been sleeping in.

Blood rushed to my face in embarrassment; was it my blood? "It's coming back to me now." We were silent for a few minutes. "How'd you find me?"

"You prayed to Cas." Sam said. "Nice handiwork by the way."

"Yeah, where'd you learn to do that?" Dean chimed in.

I hesitated before speaking. "School." I saw Dean tense, but almost before it happened, he forced himself to relax. I knew that he knew he'd stumbled onto dangerous ground.

Apparently Sam didn't. "So you went to college?" Sam asked, pulling a chair closer to the hospital bed.

I frowned. "Is this going to be an interrogation?"

Just then, a nurse popped her head in. "Everything okay in here?" She smiled when she saw that I was awake. "Good morning, Allison." She asked a lot of questions about how the IV got ripped out and how I ended up like this. She put my IV back in before finally leaving.

"Where did you go to school?" Sam asked with curiosity alight in his eyes.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes in defeat. "Undergrad in Illinois and grad in Ohio."

Sam's eyebrows shot up and he smiled. "So… you've got a masters? In what? What did you study?"

Angry tears sprang up. I locked eyes with Sam and let the full force of my malice stain my words. "I got half a doctorate before I was possessed."

"Alright, kids. That's enough for today." Dean said sternly. "Sam, can I talk to you alone?"

Realization colored Sam's face and he glanced at me before following Dean into the hall. They closed the door but didn't go far. I could barely hear their conversation.

"What?" Sam asked, obviously frustrated. "I've been patient for five months, Dean. We know her first name and that she probably has PTSD. We know she likes music and cooking and pink polka dots but nothing else." He paused. "She's a stranger to us, Dean. And she's been living with us for five months."

"Cas told us not to push too hard. Remember when you asked about her hobbies and she collapsed?" Dean's voice was just as frustrated as Sam's. "If Cas says we need to take care of her, we will. End of story. Just… try not to give her another panic attack, okay?"

I sighed. It was true. They'd told me a lot about themselves, but I had nothing to say in return. It seemed like every detail of my life could be tied back to what happened last December. I closed my eyes and focused on breathing, hoping to fall asleep before they came back in.

Later that afternoon, they released me with a wrist band that read 'Smith, Allison'. It made me uncomfortable, but then so did the wheelchair they sent me out in and the hospital pants they gave me. They'd cut my other jeans off and thrown them out, since they were a biohazard with all that blood on them.

Getting into the Impala was no small feat, but I had help. I hung my head as we set off back to the bunker. I'd been in this hospital before; the drive back would be about an hour.

The guys were quiet and rock music was playing softly from one of Dean's cassettes.

"I studied medicine." I said. My voice had cracked, so I cleared my throat and spoke a little louder. "At Ohio University. I studied medicine."

Sam turned around and saw that I wasn't faking. "Medicine? As in doctor medicine?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I was going to be an osteopathic physician." I looked out the window at the empty cornfields to the left. I didn't want the guys to see my eyes get red.

"Wow. I mean... was that what you wanted to do?" Sam asked.

I smiled at the memory of my high school biology teacher, who had sparked my love of biology. "More than anything, yes. I love how the body works, how it can tell you what's wrong if you just ask it certain questions." I snorted. "Studying five hours a day on top of eight hours of classes wasn't fun, but when you see patients and talk with them… The trust they put in you is just breathtaking. They make all that work worth it."

"You were gonna be a doctor?" Dean asked, unbelief in his tone.

"Are you surprised?" I asked, looking at him in the rear view mirror.

"Well, after seeing Cas, no. It makes sense. Sam was gonna be a lawyer, if you can believe that." Dean smiled over at Sam, who was rolling his eyes and smiling.

"Yeah, until my big brother kidnapped me from college." He seemed to be in good spirits. They'd told me that Sam went to college, but never for what.

"You came willingly."

"So why Ohio University? Did you live near there?" Sam asked. I saw Dean's knuckles go white, but he didn't saw a word.

"No." I said quickly. "I actually grew up a few hours outside Chicago. I lived in the same town for fifteen years. I moved about an hour away for undergrad. Then I moved back and got marr-" The word stuck in my throat, literally. I coughed but the feeling stayed.

Sam was silent for once. It was Dean who spoke, in a hushed tone. "Married?"

It was all I could do to nod. I returned my gaze to the cornfields. No one spoke until we got to the bunker. My hands started shaking as soon as the big power plant overtop of it came into view.

Dean helped me out and Sam opened the door to the bunker. Cas was sitting in the library, reading an old book.

"Cas?" Dean called as we entered the war room. Though we had all seen him when we walked in, he was gone now, the book still in place. I sat in the next chair and tried to get the wrist band off.

After a few seconds of searching, they found Cas and returned but Cas did not come with them.

"He can come out." I said. "I'd like to see those stitches."

"Are you sure? Cuz the last time you saw him you ran barefoot for like fifteen miles." Dean said from the doorway.

My bitchface was hard to hide. "Just tell him to come in here."

"Alright." Dean sounded skeptical, but left the library and shouted down the hall. Cas peered around the corner and looked at me as if I'd bit him.

I motioned for him to come in. "Let me see your head." He walked slowly. I wasn't sure if it was the pain from his wounds or a fear of triggering me again that burdened him. Once the chair with the book was again occupied, I had him bend over so I could check the cut on his head. It was still sealed and healing very quickly. There was still some angel healing juice in him after all.

He noticed the thick bandaging on my feet as I was looking at his head. "What happened?"

"She ran barefoot for fifteen miles." Sam said from behind his laptop.

I glanced over to him. "Was I really fifteen miles away?"

"Yeah, you made good time too. If you hadn't contacted Cas, we probably wouldn't have found you for another few hours." Sam said.

I was impressed. I thought I was two, maybe three miles away at the most. My attention turned back to the task at hand. "Shirt up." I said bluntly.

Cas frowned, but stiffly lifted the shirt. I gently peeled back the gauze and tape to reveal the extensive black stitching that was still crisscrossing his chest and stomach. The sutures seemed to be holding the deep cuts closed pretty well. There were no signs of infection, but the redness from yesterday had only diminished slightly. These wounds weren't healing as fast as his head.

"They look good. No infection." I smiled at Cas. "Dean, can you hand me the kit?" Dean brought the kit from where it sat on the bookshelf and took a long look at the sutures while I pulled more gauze out.

"What kind of stitch is that?" He asked.

"Baseball stitch. Or running locked suture if you're a surgeon." I said. "He was bleeding pretty heavily and this kind of stitch helps reduce blood loss." I covered the area once again and let Cas put his shirt down. The act of holding it up seemed to have winded him.

"Can you maybe teach me and Sam sometime?" Dean asked. Sam looked up from his laptop at the mention of his name.

"Sure." I said. "We'll need more sutures though. Or some sewing needles and thread."

"What about floss?" Dean asked. "That's what we usually use."

I couldn't hide my disgust. That was so unsanitary. "For practice, sure." I frowned at him. "That's what you usually use? How often are you stitching people? And who are you stitching, exactly?"

"Usually it's just me and Sam." Dean said. "Couple times a month, maybe."

I felt my mouth drop open. "How are you getting hurt that badly a couple times a month?"

Dean shrugged and Sam spoke up. "We get ambushed a lot. Monsters like to use knives and claws."

I looked back to Dean. "Why haven't you told me any of this? I didn't know hunting was so dangerous."

"We didn't want to add more to your plate." Dean said. "You have enough to deal with."

"Cas, why didn't you tell me?" I asked. "You were with me 24/7 for weeks on end. You never mentioned then being in mortal danger."

"They asked me not to tell you." Cas said.

"What is it with you people telling everyone not to tell someone something?" My eyes jumped between them. None but Dean met my eyes. "Cas tells you not to push me for answers, you tell Cas not to tell me you could die at any time, Cas refuses to tell you what happened to me… Can we just stop?"

"Stop what?" Dean asked, crossing his arms and leaning against a pillar.

"Stop withholding information. It could get one of us killed." I said. "I know I've been doing the same, but I think it's about time I lay it out. Five months is long enough for us to be strangers." Sam looked up at that last phrase.

"Okay." Dean said, moving to sit at the end of the table. "You know me and Sam hunt monsters, and that there are other hunters that do the same. You know we found this bunker after learning we were Men of Letters. You know Cas is an angel, and you know demons hate us." Dean paused. "What else do you know?"

"Uh, demons can't cross salt, this pendant that you never let me take off protects me from getting possessed, angels can heal people… The Men of Letters were killed back in the nineteen hundreds. Vampires live in nests. Werewolves don't look very much like wolves when they turn… Oh, and Sam was in college for law at some point when you pulled him away to hunt something. Sam likes heath food, you like burgers." I shrugged. "I know some things."

Sam shut his laptop and focused in on our conversation. "Dean, do you think it would be helpful if we told her our history? The highlights at least?"

Dean thought for a minute and then nodded slowly. "If we really aren't going to keep any more secrets, that's the way to go. But Ali, this is a two way road. You gotta let us in this time."

"Yeah, I know." I said softly, dreading the moment when I would have to tell them what happened last December.

"Okay." Dean said flatly.

"I'll start from the beginning." Sam said. "Dean, want to go make some coffee?" I saw Dean's head bow as he strolled slowly towards the kitchen. I wondered why Sam had asked such a thing of him. Dean hardly ever made coffee in the afternoons unless the guys were doing heavy research. It wasn't until a few minutes into Sam's retelling of their childhood that I realized why. This must have torn at Dean's heart every time he had to hear it. Needless to say, Dean didn't return for a long time.

It took hours for them to tell me their past. They tag teamed and even let Cas talk for a while. Their mother's death, their childhood, Dean going to a boy's home, Sam running away, the way their father treated them like soldiers… It was a lot to take in. When they told me about how they lost their father and one friend after another, I couldn't help but tear up. I was actually sobbing at one point and they had to stop for a while. Sam brought me some of the coffee Dean made. They didn't know I hated coffee yet. I drank it anyways.

Cas told me that he buried himself in demon hunting after our grocery store incident. He also admitted that he checked on me at night, sometimes in the morning, when Sam and Dean weren't there. They didn't like that, frowning as he explained himself. But I was glad to hear it. That explained why I'd catch glimpses of him now and then. I was surprised that he wasn't always here when they were gone though.

By the time they finished, it was very late. My feet were throbbing and my head was bobbing. I hadn't contributed to the conversation yet other than asking clarification questions, but Dean declared me unfit to continue. He helped me to my room before I could protest. I slept without a nightmare for the first time in a very long time.

 **A/N: See that lovely 'Review' button? Let me know what you think! Thanks!**


	5. What Remains

**A/N: Vivi here again! Big thanks to all the viewers who are giving me reviews. It's awesome to see that my words are reaching such far away places. Keep up the good work. Fair warning: this chapter delves very deep into Allison's past and the deaths of her family. It may be uncomfortable for some viewers to read. Nothing really descriptive, though. Enjoy!**

The next morning was difficult to say the least. I hadn't showered in like three days and my own smell repulsed me. On top of that, my head ached and my feet were throbbing. There was a glass of water and a prescription bottle with my name on it beside the bed. What a relief.

After taking two huge pills, I couldn't wait to get clean. I gathered some clean clothes and my towel before shuffled my way to the bathroom on two pin cushion feet. I stopped at the kitchen to grab some plastic bags to put over my bandages before arriving at my destination.

The bunker's communal bathroom was a novelty the first time I'd used it. One old, slightly cracked porcelain sink with a plain metal mirrored cabinet above it was decorated on either side by two gas masks and an emergency kit that hung on the walls. The toilet stalls were stainless steel and several porcelain urinals hung on the wall next to the stalls. The shower room was through a door in the far corner. There were two stalls with dense, waterproofed canvas curtains over each to hide the user from other patron. I put my things on a railing next to one of the stalls and stepped inside to undress. After Dean walked in on me a few months ago I stopped turning the water on before getting undressed and prioritized privacy over immediate warmth. The water was freezing when I turned it on, but it quickly warmed.

I was almost done when Sam came in to use another stall. I knew it was him because he opened the door gently. Dean tended to shove it open.

"Hey Ali." He called out.

"Morning Sam." I replied. This conditioner was taking forever to rinse out.

"How are you feeling?"

I sighed. Bathroom conversations always weirded me out. It didn't matter what they were about. "Fine." I said.

"Good." At last, he stopped talking. The conditioner was finally out of my hair and I shut the water off. Sometimes having hair that reached the middle of my back was super frustrating. Baggy sweat pants and a racer back tank top were quickly donned. I hung my towel out to dry and waddled back to my room with plastic bags still on my feet.

"Since when do you wear tight shirts that show skin?" Dean called from down the hall as I rounded the corner. He'd just left his room, I guessed.

I shrugged. "I'm actually hot right now." We met halfway down the hall and he put his hand on my head. I was surprised and flinched at his action, but he removed it quickly.

"You have a fever." He said. "Did you take your medicine?"

"Yes I did." I fixed the hair that he had displaced. "And there's no antipyretic in it anyway."

"English."

"It's not a fever reducer." I said, pushing past him to get to my room. He followed me.

"Do you know why you have a fever?" He asked from my doorway. Blood rushed to my cheeks. I was embarrassed by the mess in this room. The sheets were in a ball at the end of the bed, slightly bloody from Cas, or me, or both. There was a pile of clothes in the corner that needed to be washed and several books lay strew about. I had been reading up on demons a few months ago, but lost my steam after a particularly bad day. There were stains from food on the floor and dishes everywhere. Dust had settled on almost every surface.

"Probably just a result of what happened yesterday." I said, tossing my dirty clothes onto the pile. I sat on the bed and started brushing my soaking wet hair. Brushing it usually took me a while. Long hair was hard to keep up with, but whenever I thought about changing it, my anxiety levels would spike. "I won't worry about it until its a few days old."

Dean watched me for a few seconds. I was sure he was mentally comparing the shining floors in the rest of the bunker to the filth in my room. "Hungry?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, c'mon. You haven't eaten for like two days." Dean said, still leaning on the doorjamb.

"I've gone longer." I said softly, getting one particularly difficult knot out of the ends of my hair.

"My treat. Whatever you want. I'll go get it if I can't make it." He said. I heard Sam walk past and head to his room. Unlike me, he usually walked back to his quarters in a towel.

"Really, Dean. I'm not hungry. I don't eat very often anyways." My hair was finally straight and tangle free. I took the bags off of my feet and looked at the bandages.

"Those need changed." Dean said. "I'll get the kit."

Admittedly, it was nice having Dean help me take the bandages off. He even made sure the stitches were still in place and that there was no sign of infection. My feet were swollen, but intact. He didn't put on quite as many layers of gauze and bandaging as the nurse had. "How's that?" He asked.

"Good. Thanks." I said with a small smile on my face. It certainly wasn't pretty. There was tape everywhere and bumps in the layers, but it would do. I appreciated it nonetheless.

"So you don't want anything to eat?" He asked.

I shook my head, but stopped. "Well, maybe some soup would be nice."

"Comin' right up." He said. "You wanna stay in here, or come out with the rest of us?"

I frowned at my room. I didn't like to spend time in here. I felt guilty for leaving Cas in here for so long. "I'll come out in a minute. I need to get some laundry ready."

"Don't worry about the laundry." Dean said. "Here." He helped me up and took most of my weight, much to the relief of my aching soles. I landed in the library, where Cas was watching Netflix on Sam's laptop. He didn't look a whole lot better, but his face was a healthier shade than it had been since he arrived.

When the soup arrived a few minutes later, I was surprised to find that it wasn't canned. There was a lot of meat and veggies in there, and not nearly as much broth as canned soup brought. "What is this? Is it… homemade?"

Dean's smile was huge. "I used to make it for Sammy when he was sick. An old Winchester favorite."

A smile leaked onto my face as I stirred the soup. I looked up through the steam as my eyes watered. There must have been some kind of kick to this soup if even the steam made my eyes sting. "How'd you make it so fast?"

"I keep a couple bowls frozen at all times, just in case." He said, obviously very proud. Sam walked in, his hair just as wet as mine, and leaned over to see what I had.

"Is there any more of that?" He asked, looking hopefully at Dean.

"Freezer." He said. Sam left and we heard the freezer door click open.

"This looks amazing." I said a few minutes later; it still looked too hot to eat. "You have to show me the recipe."

"There's no written recipe. I just make it. I'll walk you through it sometime." Dean said, looking up from the book he had been buried in since he sat down. Sam had joined us and was enjoying his soup while watching Netflix with Cas at the other end of the table. "It might be a little watered down, by the way."

"Freezers seem to have that effect." I said. The steam had mostly stopped rising and I lifted the bowl to my mouth to drink some. Something in the soup irritated my throat. I almost coughed with the mouthful but managed to swallow before a coughing fit ripped through me.

"You okay?" Sam asked, setting his soup down. I couldn't speak. I could hardly breathe.

"Don't go near her Sam." Dean said.

I glanced at Dean through the tears forming in my eyes and held my throat, trying to stop the coughing. He stood and grabbed my hands roughly, putting a set of engraved handcuffs on them so that the chain went under the chair's arm rest.

"Dean, what's going on?" Cas asked. He shared my alarm.

"She's a demon." Dean said. I still hadn't stopped coughing.

"No, Dean. I would have seen it if it were still in her." Cas said. Though I couldn't see through the tears in my eyes, his voice betrayed his shock.

"She just choked on holy water, she flinches every time she crosses the salt in front of the door, she hardly eats, and she's been having psychotic breakdowns. She fits the profile, Cas." Dean sounded angry. I finally was able to stop coughing but my stomach burned and I thought I might throw up.

"But the pendant. She wouldn't be able to move if she had a demon." Sam said. Dean reached down and snapped the pendant's thin string from my neck; it stung a little, but the string was very thin. He looked at it and then threw it down on the table in front of Cas and Sam.

"It's chipped. Something must have fallen on it in the trunk before we gave it to her." Dean said.

"Dean, do I really still have the demon?" I asked, my voice raw.

He looked down at me and was suddenly unsure. I think he anticipated an angry black eyed being from the underworld to come out with its teeth bared. "Allison, you need to tell us what happened to you."

"Yeah, you said you were possessed before you finished school." Sam said from his seat.

I swallowed hard and coughed again. "I'll tell you anything." I said, feeling very trapped. "Just ask. Anything."

"What happened halfway through your doctorate?" Dean said.

"I was possessed." I gasped, coughing again.

"By what? When? Where? Details." Dean said, sitting opposite me.

I couldn't look at him. "I think it was a demon. It didn't say its name. I was in my apartment at school and this black smoke came out of my air conditioner. But it wasn't on. It was the beginning of December. I went over to see what was happening and the smoke jammed itself in my mouth." Another coughing fit ripped through me. It left my chest feeling raw and my heart pounding.

"Do you remember anything after that?" He asked, leaning in.

"Yeah, I came to like two days later under a bridge. I tried to figure out where I was and how long I had been… out of it. The headline of the newspaper I found was 'three college kids missing after attacked in their car'. There was a traffic camera picture on the front page with my face in the window of their car. I was horrified. I called my husban-" Another cough erupted from my mouth, followed by a soft sob. I sucked the snot back in and continued, my eyes shut so hard I couldn't see the light. "My husband and he said he saw my face on the news and had been trying to contact me. I blacked out again just after that. When I came to the second time, I was in a dingy old barn with Cas kneeling over me. I killed them." I sobbed for a few seconds. "I killed those kids and my family. My whole family."

"That's enough." Cas said. "Dean, Sam, come with me." They stood and left the room. I continued to sob softly as Cas filled them in on the details that he gave me after I came to in that barn.

I was possessed on the third of December. I can remember much more than I let the Winchesters or even Cas know. I felt the snap of the student's necks under my fingers. The kids were declared missing on the fourth, and I regained control and called my husband on the fifth. I don't remember any of the sixth; the demon must have finally forced me away then. When I was allowed to see again on the seventh, the demon was in my hometown. It killed all of my close friends first; it must have seen the pictures on my walls at school or read my mind or something. Their blood was hot on my skin as the demon made its way to my mother's house. Then my father's. Then my grandparents. Finally, it stood outside where my husband lived. While I was away at school, he stayed back in our hometown to keep working and support me. He answered the door and I could do nothing as the demon took him from me.

He lived next to a big, old barn that my family had owned for over a hundred years. It was a storage barn now, but there were animal stalls in the basement and hay hooks in the ceiling, fifty feet up. The police finally identified me on the seventh, just before my family was killed. I still don't know how, but Cas caught wind of the murders. He tracked me and the demon to the barn. It knew exactly what he was the moment he touched down in the dim light. I could hear its thoughts sometimes.

I told Cas that I didn't remember the fight he had with the demon, but every blow he landed on my body was burned into my mind. That was part of the reason the incident at the grocery store was so damaging to me. In that old barn I was stabbed with old tools after knocking Cas' blade away, my nose was broken when I lost him in the darkness, all of the fingers on my right hand were snapped and at unnatural angles, and my left leg was crushed beneath an old saw mill that Cas threw at me as the demon tried to escape. It heard him pick up his blade and the demon growled at him before leaving my body. If not for the horrific trauma I'd had, I may have been conscious when she left. But the pain was too much. I passed out.

Cas told me a few days after I woke up in the bunker what had happened next. He heard the police outside the barn. My husband's neighbor had called about screaming next door. They heard the commotion in the barn and were approaching. Cas told me that he looked at me, broken, bloody, and near death on the ground. He realized that if I didn't die there, they'd kill me later. Lethal injection, probably. He pulled me out from under the saw mill and tugged the tools from my back before healing me. I guess he zapped us to the bunker after that. I woke up in a strange room. Sam's actually, as I learned later. I couldn't move or speak for a long time. Weeks probably. I lost track of the days in the first month or so I was here. Sam and Dean were nice enough, but all Cas told them was that I had been through something awful and that I'd probably have PTSD if I ever fully came to.

I did fully come to a few days after I arrived. I had a massive panic attack and slept for a day and a half. After that, things started to get better. I said a few words every day. Not many; it was exhausting. I told them my first name. I thanked them for helping me. I asked where the bathroom was.

Looking back, I should have just told them everything I remembered as soon as I could.

I was coughing again when they returned. Dean knelt down beside my chair and looked at me with a knowing sadness in his expression. "Cas told us the rest. I'm sorry." He said softly. I sobbed a little more. Dean walked back over to the book he had been reading before. "I think you still have the demon, but it's weak. It may have partially smoked out in that barn, but not all of it got out." Dean said, placing his hand on the book. "It's happened before, according to the Men of Letters."

"Kill it!" I yelled through the sobs and coughing. "Make it suffer like it made me suffer."

Dean looked to Sam, then to Cas who shook his head. "Dean, killing it would kill Allison. I am in no position to prevent that."

"No, please. It doesn't matter if I die too, just kill it."

Dean closed the book and spoke with kind sternness. "No can do."

The exorcism was quick but very painful. The demon was still in me, but so weak that the guys couldn't even get it to speak through me before they got it out. I blacked out shortly after they started reciting the words.

 **A/N: Please review and let me know if you'd like me to dive right back into the story at the beginning of each chapter or give a little summary of where we are from Allison's POV before getting back to the plot. Either way, I'll make it work. Thanks!**


	6. Centerville

**A/N: Vivi here! You'll be glad to hear that Allison survived her ordeal and well on her way to recovery. Enjoy!**

When I woke up, I felt high. Like I'd just taken some very illegal drugs. And I was seeing things. I was in my room, but it was clean and orderly. My clothes were washed and in a basket by the dresser. It didn't smell and there were no dishes lying around. Sam was sleeping in the corner, propped up in a chair. There was something small and cool resting on my chest. A thick fog hung over everything, even with the lamp on my dresser turned on. It made my room look blurry.

I coughed. My throat was still irritated. I tried to sit up but could only lift my head off the pillow. My whole body was sore.

"Take it easy." Sam said. "You'll be pretty sore for a while. By the way, we gave you a new pendant that's not broken. You should be safer with that one."

"Where am I?" I asked. Every few seconds, the room would tilt just a few degrees and snap back into place when I blinked.

There was a lengthy silence before Sam spoke, his voice giving away his concern. "In your room." He moved to stand next to my bed. "Do you remember who I am?"

"Sam." I said, trying to stop the dizziness. I squeezed my eyes shut. "Sam Winchester. Dean's your brother."

"What's your name?"

"Allison Ligan."

"How old are you, Allison?" He asked as he settled onto the edge of my bed.

"I'm… uh… my last birthday I was… 24." I saw the little number-shaped candles in my mind's eye as my family sang that old song and I blew out the flames. It was just a flash of a memory, gone too fast to hurt.

"Really?" Sam chuckled. "You're only 24? When's your birthday?"

"January 20th, 1985." I said.

"So you just turned 24 this year? While you were here at the bunker?" Sam asked, pulling his chair to sit next to the bed. He sounded skeptical, like he was testing me.

I thought for a minute. "No, I guess I'm 25. I forgot about my birthday." I also forget that I'd been in the bunker since last December.

"Happy belated birthday." Dean said from the doorway. He must have heard us talking.

"Yeah, sorry we missed it." Sam said.

"Thanks, it's no big deal. I'll probably have more." I said, smiling weakly. I covered my eyes with my arm. Even the weak desk lamp on my dresser was too bright.

"You know your birthday is four days before mine?" Dean said. "Small world, huh? Sammy's is all the way in May. Hey, that's coming up, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Sam said.

"You'll be like… twenty-seven, right? Man, you're getting old." Dean said.

"Look who's talking. You're already thirty something, Dean." Sam said with a smile in his voice. He must have looked back to me at that point. "How are you feeling, Ali?" Sam asked.

"Honestly, I'm super dizzy. And very sore." I coughed again, pulling in a shaky breath.

"It's a hell of a ride." Dean said.

"Hey, how's Cas?" I asked. "Is he doin' okay?"

"Cas is fine." Sam said. "Don't worry about Cas."

"Of course I'm gonna worry about Cas." I snorted. "I worry about all you guys. Like all the time. It's kind of my hobby." I laughed. "Like cooking and cleaning and cars." I was starting to find humor in everything. And I still felt pretty high. And swirly…

"Alright, happy camper. Sleep it off." Dean said as he tossed my covers back over me. I stuck my tongue out at him. "She's totally out of it again, isn't she?"

"You bet." Sam replied. "Switch in three hours?"

"I'll be there." Dean said.

Dean was in the chair the next time I woke up. I didn't feel high anymore so was able to get myself into a sitting position and pull my feet up close. The bandaging was different from what I last remembered. Soon there was a pile of gauze on the bed next to me and I saw my swollen right foot, with stitches across the arch and a lot of skin glue holding smaller cuts together. It was bright red still, but it didn't look infected. I had been walking on it, after all. The left foot was much the same, but with stitches that came around the inside of my foot a little lower than the other foot's stitches. I must have stepped on a broken bottle or something.

Stiffly, I got out of bed and left the room, Dean still snoring in the corner. It must have been nighttime outside, because it was freezing cold and dark out in the hallway. I decided against turning on the lights. It didn't seem that important to me now.

In the kitchen, I made some microwave macaroni and cheese. It tasted like perfection; I hadn't eaten in… a very long time. And with the demon, I hadn't had to eat much to survive. My body felt starved.

A few forkfuls of macaroni into my meal, a curious Cas rounded the corner and sat opposite me in the darkness. I knew his footsteps as well as I knew my own.

"Hey Cas." I said to the dark figure.

"Allison, why are you eating in the dark? It was my understanding that humans found comfort in light. You are diurnal creatures."

I shrugged. He could see me in the dark; it was an angel thing I think. "They had the desk lamp on in my room and it hurt my eyes."

We sat in silence for a few more forkfuls. "How are you feeling? Dean told me you were having some odd side effects of the exorcism. Dizziness and confusion."

"I'm fine now, mostly. Just sore from the whole demon removal thing. My feet hurt too." I looked down in the darkness even though I couldn't see my feet. "I forgot to put the bandages back on before walking around." I mentally kicked myself.

"I can help with that." Cas said. I heard him get up and walk out to the library.

"Thanks. I'm sorry I've been so needy lately. It can't be fun for you guys." I said softly.

"From my experience, doing the right thing is rarely fun." Cas said.

"How are your cuts coming along?" I asked.

"They've almost sealed. I no longer need a full night of sleep to function. I remain unable to heal others though. I tried while you slept, but… Dean likened it to a car that turns over but cannot start." He finished up putting the layers of clean, white fibers on my feet and returned to his seat. "I may be under a spell that reduces my ability to use my grace. I have been unable to find anything about it in the Men of Letters archives, which in my current state is causing me considerable frustration."

I smirked. "I take it you don't care much for the more unpleasant human emotions."

"I do not." Cas said. "Shouldn't you be resting? How did you convince Dean to let you come out unaccompanied in the dark?"

I smiled and stood up. "What Dean doesn't know won't hurt him. Good night Cas."

I'm sure Cas smiled; I heard it in his voice. "Good night Allison."

The desk lamp was still on in my room and Dean was still snoring in the chair. I climbed in bed and pulled the covers over my eyes to keep them from stinging as I fell asleep.

"Dean." I said after I woke up. Even speaking was difficult. "Dean." With a little more force, I managed to wake him up too.

"What?" He sounded grumpy. Like he'd slept in a wooden chair all night.

"Where'd you put my meds?" I asked. The little bottle had disappeared from my nightstand.

He patted his pockets and threw the bottle to me. I flinched, and picked it up from where it landed hear my hand.

"Good morning to you too." I muttered.

He was already asleep again.

It was about a week before I stopped taking the pain meds. Cas was healed up by then and I had taken his stitches out. He hadn't recovered his mojo yet and we were making no headway with the research. The Winchesters had found another case, this time in Missouri. Something about a house where people went missing with the doors locked, alone in the room with the windows shattered afterwards. They'd been going stir crazy; it was actually a relief when they left. Cas and I stayed at the bunker to continue the research on Cas' condition and try to find something about the house.

We spent a lot of long hours sitting in the library, staring at dusty books or bright little screens.

"Hungry?" I asked suddenly, closing a particularly large tome.

"Yes." Cas didn't look up. It was about eleven and he really only ate one meal nowadays. We'd been up for hours already and I was starving.

I stood and walked over to where he sat, surrounded by open records of supposedly mythical Enochian history. I sat on the table next to the books and waited until he looked up. I could tell he was tired of research.

"Let's go out." I said. "I'm thinking burgers."

"Allison, we have a task at hand that requires our full attention." He looked back to the book.

"Cas, look at me." I could tell I had bags under my eyes and I wanted to use them to their fullest effect. "I have not seen the sun in over a week."

His stomach growled before he could reply and he sighed in defeat. "Where are these burgers you want to get?"

I smiled. "It's just outside town. Only a few minutes' drive."

The sun was just as beautiful as I remembered it being before my incident. I hadn't noticed how the warmth seeped into my bones, or how light danced off of everything it touched in the nearly six months since I was possessed. Being free and fully myself was like breathing fresh air after being held under water too long. Even though it was another cool April day, I rolled the passenger window on the old car all the way down and let the wind blow through my hair.

Cas drove us to pick up our preordered food. He didn't want to sit inside and risk another demon attack while I was barely warded and he was down for the count. We stopped by the side of a long, straight road to eat. I'd begged him not to make me go back to the bunker so soon.

"This is… very satisfying." Cas smiled as he took a huge bite of his BBQ burger.

"I agree." I sat on the hood of the little green car and he leaned against the grill. "We should do this more often."

"I don't think that's a wise decision, Allison." Cas said.

"Why not? They left me with you at the bunker, why would they not let us go outside together?" I asked, slightly irritated.

He finished the burger and answered. "It's not the Winchesters. Your warded pendant is weak and can't protect you very long out here. More than a few hours out of the bunker and it will fail. There will be nothing to protect you from being found."

"Why would anything try to find me?" I asked. "The demon is gone. I'm useless to them."

"We have a theory that when you and I were attacked at the store the demons were trying to recover the part of the demon that was left in you. That's why they grabbed you and started running." Cas said, looking at me with guilt still in his eyes.

"Cas, thank you getting me away from them." I said. "I don't think I ever thanked you."

"You are welcome." He said, unable to meet my eyes.

"Cas… The demons just let go and…" I frowned down into my burger. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me."

"It was never my intention to harm you." He paused for a moment. "The demon that possessed you was very powerful. When we fought in that barn, it nearly killed me several times. The Winchesters and I believe that the demons may have wanted to recover you because the part of your demon that reached Hell was weak without the piece that was left in you. The events at the grocery store have led us to believe that it is a high ranking demon as well as a powerful one. If lesser demons were coming after you, they must be under the control of a 'bigger bad' as Dean said. Additionally, we think that you may be a very stable vessel. Very powerful demons, like angels, have the tendency to burn through their vessels if the vessels are not incredibly strong." He locked eyes with mine. "You lived for five months with half of a very powerful creature burning inside you. That makes you a highly sought after vessel. You are still in danger, even with the demon out of you."

"That would have been nice to know before we left the bunker, Cas. Thanks for the update." I slid off the hood and was seething anger and fear as I got in the car. I locked the door behind me. "Take me home." Cas joined me and we were back in a few minutes.

"Why didn't someone tell me your little theory?" I asked as we left the garage.

"It is a working theory. We have no concrete evidence suggesting truth in our claims as of now." Cas said. "We did not want to cause you undue stress."

Our chairs in the library were still slightly warm. "Secrets, Cas. You guys are keeping secrets from me." I huffed, opening the big old book from earlier.

"I just told you the theory. Is it still a secret?" Cas seemed confused.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "No, but it would have been nice to know before we left the only safe place I seem to have." The print in the book was so small and my eyes so tired that they seemed to wiggle and warp as I looked at them. "When did the guys call last?" I asked. I just really needed to give them a piece of my mind for keeping more secrets from me.

"Three days ago." Cas said, pulling his phone from his pocket and setting it on the table. Three days seemed like a long time. Usually either Sam or Dean would call each night for a quick check in. No more than thirty seconds at most; just enough time for both sides to make sure the others were still alive and well.

"That's when they asked us to look into the deaths around that one neighborhood in town, right?"

"Yes." Cas said. He seemed unfazed. I got the feeling that before I'd arrived at the bunker they hadn't called very often at all.

"Did they ever call back and ask about what we found?" I asked. We hadn't found anything unusual about the three homicides that occurred within five days in a relatively quiet neighborhood near the house that Sam and Dean were investigating.

"No." Cas said.

"Aren't you a little worried?"

"No." Cas said, looking up from his book. "When the Winchesters come under extreme duress, they pray to me. I haven't heard them."

"But you can hear them with all this going on, right? In your head?" I asked.

"Correct."

"So it's like when the demon would talk to me in my head. Have you heard them since your accident?"

"Yes. Dean prayed for toilet paper a few days ago." He returned his attention to the book. Frustrated and slightly amused, I stood and walked out to the garage, hoping Cas wouldn't follow me. I pulled my own, old flip phone out and dialed Sam's number.

It rang. And rang. And rang. Finally, I got his voicemail.

I tried Dean's number. It rang and went to voicemail as well. I closed the phone harder than I probably should have and rubbed my neck. Anxiety rolled over me, though not as strong as it had when I'd been possessed.

Then I felt the phone vibrate in my hand. It was Sam.

"Sam?" I asked softly, trying to keep Cas from hearing.

"Ali. Yeah, hi. Is something wrong there?" He asked.

"No, we hadn't heard from you guys in a few days and I was worried." I said.

"Sorry, can you put Cas on the phone?" Sam asked. I was somewhat taken aback by his request. He wasn't usually so abrupt.

"Yeah, sure. Hold on." I said. My cheeks were flushed when I handed the phone to Cas but I was more concerned about the guys than I was about my ego.

"Sam." Cas answered the phone. He must have heard me talking in the garage despite my efforts. I couldn't hear what Sam was saying, but Cas' face grew more stern than I had seen it in a long time.

"What do you think was in the house?" Cas asked. I heard Sam say something but I couldn't make it out. "Centerville is located in the middle of a vast forest. The broken windows lead me to believe that whatever took Dean may be hiding there."

"Something took Dean?" I asked, fear stirring in my gut.

Cas held his hand up and listened hard to Sam.

"Haven't you killed one before?" Cas asked. Sam answered and Cas nodded, listening for a while longer. "You know I can't take you directly to those locations in my current condition." More listening. "In that case, I will go with you. May I borrow a pair of boots? My shoes aren't warm enough for an overnight stay in the woods."

"Are we going to help find Dean?" I asked Cas.

His eyes shot up to me and he held my gaze as he spoke. "Allison would like to come and help. I advise against it." Cas said right to my face. He listened to Sam's reply and shook his head. I wasn't allowed to come.

"Thanks, Casshole." I muttered, storming off to my room. Before I knew what I was doing, I had my own little green, flowery duffel stuffed full of warm clothes, toiletries, bandages, and one small, thick blanket. My dark red winter coat was draped over the closed bag.

I opened my door and glanced down the halls, checking for Cas. From what I heard, he was still talking on my phone with Sam. Quickly, I put on a few more layers and my hiking boots. I only had three pairs of shoes now. Some black flats, old white tennis shoes, and a pair of hiking boots bought by accident from the thrift store by Dean, who read the misprinted label and assumed it was correct. They were a little big, but if I wore three pairs of socks, they fit perfectly.

It was difficult to walk quietly with the hard soled boots on, but I had mastered silent movement during my time at the bunker. I huddled down in the back of the old car we took to get lunch and pulled the blanket which was usually heaped in the corner of the bench in the backseat over me. Hopefully Cas would be in such a hurry that he wouldn't try to find me. I'd slammed my door earlier and turned up the music on my MP3 player, headphones plugged in, so he would hear that and in his awkwardness not want to confront me to say goodbye.

A few minutes later, I was actually so comfortable in the old car that I almost fell asleep. Reality snapped me out of it as I heard Cas open the driver's door and toss a duffel bag of his own into the passenger seat. Silently, I hoped he couldn't hear me breathe, or my heart as it started beating hard.

The engine started up and we were moving. My plan had worked. I just had to wait about five hours before making myself known; Centerville was a nine hour drive from Lebanon. I wasn't out of the woods yet.

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! If you did, let me know! It only takes a few seconds to review. I appreciate you!**


	7. Calloway's

**A/N: Welcome back, all! Vivi here for yet another chapter of Internal Medicine. Fair warning, Ali reflects on some pretty dark things for a few sentences towards the end, but nothing is graphic or descriptive. Keep up with the reviews. They've been helpful! Enjoy!**

When I woke up, it was dark. We'd left at around noon. Had I slept the whole way?

The radio was playing some music from a few decades ago. A man's voice came through and announced it to be eight o'clock. My stomach growled, then lurched.

I thought we were going to go off the road. Cas yelped and the car swerved dangerously close to the ditch before he slammed on the breaks. The blanket I had hidden under was violently ripped away from me, allowing me to see the sunset through the windows and Cas' furious, albeit terrified, face. He'd jumped up and was kneeling on the front seat, poised to attack with his angel blade shining in the last light of the sun.

"Hiya, Cassie." I smiled sheepishly. He sighed in relief and rested his head on the back of the front seat.

With his forehead still on the front seat, he addressed me. "I knew that music was too loud for your ears. Why did you come?"

"Dean's missing and I just wanted to help. Can't a girl get any respect around here?" I asked, uncurling my slowly cramping legs to sit on the backseat and face my chauffeur.

Suddenly Cas' head was up and his face was very close to mine as he leaned over the seat. His left hand was supporting him on the back seat, but his right hand was very close to my chest. I looked down to see what he was doing after the initial shock of his action wore off. He was grasping my pendant, muttering something in a language I could only guess was Enochian. It was a few seconds before he stopped and released my necklace.

"Your warding is about to fail. Did you not hear me when I told you that the pendant was weak?" He sat down in the front seat, clearly frustrated, and pulled out his cell phone. He called a number on speed dial.

"I'm sorry, Cas… I thought you were just trying to keep me from leaving the bunker." I said.

"Sam." Cas said. He waited for Sam's greeting before continuing. "Allison stowed away in the back seat of my vehicle. She tricked me into thinking she was in her room at the bunker." He waited for Sam's reply, which sounded just as agitated as Cas' statements. "Yes, in about two hours. Then anything will be able to find her." I actually heard Sam say 'dammit' rather loudly on the other end, followed by more dialog. "I know of a place about an hour from here." Cas said, glaring at me from the front seat before putting the car back in gear. We were hauling ass even before Sam finished his statement. "It will delay our progress, but we've been planning to do this for several months now anyway." Cas looked back at me again, this time as if he were appraising a head of cattle. I was nervous as Sam spoke. "I'll meet you there then." With that, he hung up.

"What place?" I asked timidly.

"You are testing the limits of my human patience, Allison." He glared at me from the rearview mirror. "Please cooperate from now on."

"What place?" I asked, adding an edge and some strength to my voice.

His eyes narrowed in the mirror as he continued watching the road. It was flying by more quickly than I'd ever gone. "It's called Calloway's."

Calloway's was a small metal building situated along the main drag in a small town about an hour south of Centerville. It looked intimidating, but Cas grabbed me under the arm and pulled me inside. Apparently, he didn't want any more delays in the plan. It was getting late and the heavily tattooed fellow behind the desk didn't look too happy about us arriving a few minutes before closing.

"What can I do for you?" He barked. I looked around, a little scared, and saw a lot of art on the walls and a big black curtain hanging just behind the desk. Cas let me go and lifted his shirt. I was surprised to say the least; that was not something he ever did, much less in public.

On his skin was a crude tattoo with strange symbols and things that kind of looked like letters. I found myself staring; I'd seen some of those symbols and letters in the books Cas and I were researching to try and fix his grace.

"She needs one exactly like mine tonight." Cas said. "Please."

The man lifted an eyebrow. "That's gonna take at least an hour." He said to Cas. Then he turned to me. "Honey, can I see you behind the curtain real quick?"

I hesitated, but agreed to go with him after Cas nodded and shot me a reassuring glance.

"Is he bad news, little lady?" The man asked softly, arms crossed, as we stepped behind the curtain. We were in a room covered in art work with three mechanical, adjustable chairs and big mirrors on the walls. Two large televisions hung from the ceiling. A tattoo parlor. That made sense.

Confusion colored my face as I realized what he was asking. "What?"

"Is he manipulating you? Like hurting you, selling you, hitting you? I saw how he pulled you in here. You didn't seem like you wanted to come." The man was clearly concerned.

I smiled. "Thank you. But he's my friend. I was sleeping when we got here. I'm usually a little groggy until I've been awake for a few minutes. We live up in Centerville and it was dark… I just can't stay awake in cars at night." Lying through my teeth was one skill that I wasn't proud to be good at.

"You sure? You're not drunk or drugged, are you?" He asked, looking me up and down.

I laughed. "No, just sleepy. Thanks for watching out for me though." I said. "I've actually been meaning to get a tattoo to match his for few months now, but I hadn't had the nerve. I decided tonight was the night. I know it's a little late, but if you could, I would appreciate it." I shot him my brightest smile and my most innocent eyes. He seemed to relax.

"Alright. I'm Tim by the way. Let me get that design off of your buddy there and we can start. I'mma charge you overtime though. I was gonna watch the game." He huffed, going back around the curtain.

"I'm Ali. You can watch it from in here, can't you? I don't mind." I said, returning to the other side of the curtain.

It really did take him an hour. One painful, ice-hockey-commentary filled hour. The text from Cas' tattoo was slowly, yet supposedly quite rapidly according to Tim, written on my left side. The symbols and letters wrapped from my back to my front just below my bra, along the last few of my ribs. My tattoo was significantly smaller than Cas' but I still squeezed his hand to keep from crying. As Tim was just about finished and my eyes were watering, I saw Cas start to draw the tattoo that Dean and Sam had over their hearts.

I looked at him in confusion. "I need both?" I asked, trying to keep their meanings a secret from Tim but desperate to know what they meant. Cas nodded.

Once Cas finished drawing it, I showed it to Tim. "Can I have this one too? Just centered below the last one, and a little smaller?" I batted my eyes and smiled sweetly.

Tim looked at it, squinted, looked at my side, and spoke. "O' course. That'll be a few more minutes though."

A few minutes later, I was slathered with some kind of cream and wrapped in cling wrap with two shiny new, jet black tattoos adorning my side.

As we left the parlor, Cas seemed visibly more relaxed. We arrived at the car and he pressed his hand into my tattoos. I gasped at the stinging pain. Once his Enochian mutterings were finished, he got in the car and I caught my breath. I was in mild pain as we took off, speeding towards Centerville.

"Cas, I know you and Dean and Sam have these tattoos, but no one bothered to tell me what they are. Why do I need both?" I asked, trying to find a position in the front seat that didn't allow the seatbelt to rub my new ink.

"One is to disallow anything from finding or tracking you and the other prevents possession by demons." He said.

"Which is which?" I asked.

"Sam and Dean have the anti-possession tattoo on their skin and the protection sigil carved into their ribs. Ours is a different sigil than theirs, however. Both work well." He didn't look away from the road. I couldn't blame him. I think we were going faster now than we were earlier.

"What does ours say?" I asked, pulling up my layers of clothing to look down at it. It looked kind of cool. Somehow, it made me feel a little safer.

"The exact translation from Enochian makes little sense in English, but the general wording of the sigil goes: prevent vessels or ethereal creatures from finding me; swear to prevent others with the intention of battle and murder in their hearts from finding me." Cas said. "It's much more poetic in Enochain."

"I believe you." I said softly. "So now nothing can find me?"

"Nothing. Not even me." He turned to make eye contact with me. "Allison, if you ever get lost and need me to find you, pray to me. Understand? Tell me your location, or any details you know or can see about where you are. If you pray long enough, I may be able to lock onto your location and go to you even with the sigil. It's difficult, but I think I can do it."

I gave him a small smile. "Thanks Cas. Thanks for not dumping me somewhere and leaving me to fend for myself, or blowing up in my face when you found me. And thanks for letting me crush your hand for an hour." That finally elicited a smile from him.

"We had planned on taking you to get the sigils for several months but in your state of health it hadn't seemed wise. Now was not an ideal time, but as Dean would say, 'there's no time like the present'."

"So why did you get your tattoo? I can see why Sam and Dean got theirs… and the rib carvings, which were from you, I'm guessing?" I trailed off. "I mean, those kinds of injuries would have killed them unless something like an angel did it."

"Yes, I inscribed the sigil on their ribs to protect them from the angels and demons hunting us at the time. I received my tattoo after I rebelled against Heaven to help the Winchesters." Cas said stiffly.

"You never told me that." I said softly. "They must really mean a lot to you for you to do something like that."

"Sam and Dean have been the only truly reliable friends I have had in my existence. Even with my grace inaccessible, they see worth in me. " He frowned. "I fear that may change now." We were quiet for a few minutes. I had no idea what to say and was at a loss until he spoke again. "I believe my current condition is caused by spellwork, not depleted grace. I can feel it inside me, I just can't access it. It is deeply frustrating."

"We'll figure it out, Cas. Don't get discouraged." I said.

"I should have been able to find Dean on my own by now, Allison." He glanced over at me. "I'm useless to them now."

"I disagree." I said. "You make a mean researcher, Cas. And a great chauffeur. Not to mention a steady medic and a kind ear to talk to. You're brilliant, Cas. Give yourself some credit." I play punched his shoulder.

"How am I rude or angry in my research? Why is that considered a good thing?" Cas said, clearly very confused.

That had me giggling. "No, Cas. It means you're very good at researching tough topics."

"Oh." He smiled to himself after a moment of thought. "I guess I can see your point."

Cas parked our car next to the Impala at the Atrium Inn Motel. Sam peered through the curtain and came out. "Allison, what were you thinking?" He asked, taking my flowery duffel and coat from me when he saw me wince at the pain in my side.

"I was thinking I can help find Dean." I shot his attitude right back to him. "And if anyone stands in my way, they won't for long. I'm not some helpless little girl." I started walking towards the hotel room. "By the way, I've been elbow deep in other peoples' blood more times than I can count. And not all of those were surgeries."

Cas and Sam followed me in. The room was covered with articles about missing people and the house. Some drawings of the house and eye witness account-based sketches of a humanoid with white eyes were on the wall too. Dean's things lay half-packed on one bed and Sam's on the other. The rest of the floor, save the path to the bathroom, was covered in camping supplies and weapons.

"I just got back from a supply run." Sam said, pushing past me and dumping my things on his bed. "I'd like to head out at first light."

"I thought we were going out tonight?" I piped up.

"This monster is a great hunter during the day but an incredible one at night. We wouldn't stand a chance." Sam said. "And if it really does have Dean, it's not likely that it'll kill him in the next few days. They like to… uh… take their time."

"What is it?" I asked. Sam and Cas exchanged a worried, hesitant look. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Come on, guys. You're making me feel really left out right now." I said.

"It's a Wendigo." Sam said. "Human turned monster after resorting to cannibalism during hard times. They're incredibly fast, can mimic voices, and have long, sharp claws."

The bitchface settled right where it fit me best. "Stop trying to scare me out of going out with you, Sam. Do you even remember the past five months?" I asked. He and Cas seemed confused. "When I was borderline suicidal and you left me alone? When the demon's voice, which I thought was my own, was in my head telling me to kill myself, to hurt myself, to hurt you guys, to drink boiling water or bleach… to do anything so long as it hurt me. I lived like that for five months. Five months. Don't I at least deserve a little respect for making it through that?" I realized I was almost shouting. I calmed down a little and spoke in a more mellow tone. "You hardly know what I can do, Sam Winchester. I can help."

Sam frowned and looked away from me. Then he looked back, his expression less irritated than before. "I know what it's like to live like that. You never told us you were hearing things or having thoughts like that."

"Well, the voice told me you'd be mad at me if I told you guys. That you'd kick me out. It was very convincing at the time." I sat on Dean's bed and looked at my hands, folded in my lap. "I'm alive and that's what matters. Let's make sure Dean is too."

 **A/N: Review review review please! See you soon for the next installment!**


	8. Three Strikes

**A/N: Vivi here! Thanks for all the views and follows and favorites! And for the reviews, which help me improve my work. Now, without further ado, I give you Three Strikes. Enjoy!**

I got my own bed last night. Cas opted to sleep on the floor for his usual three hours. When Sam and I awoke a few hours before the sun would rise, our camping bags were packed and in the car already. Cas had been busy.

Sam suggested we shower before we go. We may be in the woods for a few days and we couldn't hike in until the sun was up.

The sun was just beginning to peer into the woods as we pulled into the gravel driveway of the old, abandoned house. I recognized it from the sketches and photos on the walls at the motel. We left the Impala and solemnly donned our camping gear. I had my duffel, Sam's, and Cas' too, since Sam only had two hiking bags to use.

Today was another chilly April morning. I could see my breath; secretly, I was very glad we hadn't left the night before. There was frost on the ground that crunched as we headed into the woods behind the house.

Sam had done his research and had a map featuring six old mines and caves within fifteen miles of the house, through dense forest and rough terrain. It was a day's travel to the furthest one, another day's travel to check the rest, and about half a days' travel to the nearest. We headed to the nearest one first, an old mine from the 1800s.

This forest was very old. I could tell that people rarely hiked through it; there weren't any paths. Weeds reached out and clung to our pants, branches tried to slap our faces, and every once in a while, there would be a rustling in the briars nearby that sent my adrenaline pumping. Sam led us with a compass in hand, since there was no cell service out this far into the wilderness. He was a good navigator; we made it to the first mine after about five and a half hours of walking through the underbrush and steep slopes.

As it came into view, the old mine seemed angry. It's entrance was carved out of the side of a sizable hill, held up with several thick timbers that appeared to be rotting after about two hundred years of disuse. There were boards, newer than the timbers supporting the hill, nailed across the entrance. I looked around. There were no signs warning of the dangers of the cave. It made sense, since we were already miles into the forest and I hadn't seen signs of civilization since the house went out of view. Cas and Sam set their bags down and took out some extra weapons.

"Flare guns?" I whispered to them, not wanting to alert the Wendigo to our presence, if it was even here. The entrance didn't look disturbed; no boards seemed out of place, the leaf litter around the opening was not disturbed, birds were chirping nearby. It all seemed very normal to me, at least.

"They actually work well." Sam said, tossing Cas a blow torch.

"What do I carry?" I asked, setting my load next to theirs. Sam handed me a flare gun.

"Shoot this at anything that moves too fast to see or that makes a loud sound." Sam said. He then drew strange symbols in the dirt around me and the bags. "Stay inside the symbols. The Wendigo can't cross them. And if the birds stop singing, stay calm and don't leave the circle. Even if Dean's voice begs you to."

"Wait, wait, wait." I said, pulling a hand on my hip. "You're leaving me out here? I'm not allowed to help?"

Sam held out a hand as if to tell me to cool it. "This is your first hunt, okay? Let's not make it your last. Stay in the circle. C'mon Cas." They left me in the circle with a flare gun. I sat on the duffels for forty-five minutes, bored out of my mind, in the nearly silent forest. The only rustles I heard were dueling songbirds and a chubby little Robin flitting through the branches, landing on one with dead leaves, and then moving on. There wasn't even much wind. I started memorizing the symbols in the dirt.

Cas and Sam emerged just after I memorized about half of the symbols. I stood instantly, noticing a certain lack of Dean in their midst. "Anything?" I asked, not very hopeful. There hadn't been a commotion that I could hear from where I sat but that didn't mean they hadn't found anything.

Sam shook his head. "Just some old mining equipment. Let's get moving."

The next stop was another mine, only two hours walk from the first. My feet already had blisters forming from the ill-fitting boots. On top of that, the cuts from my 'field trip' seemed ready to reopen and I was sure my feet were swollen to twice their normal size. My shoulders ached from the weight of the bags. I hadn't carried anything this heavy since medical school when my bag would have three textbooks and a laptop in it. I swallowed the pain and kept my mouth shut, not wanting to be seen as a whiny little girl. Upon arrival at our next destination, Sam decorated my standing spot with the symbols before he and Cas descended into the partially boarded up entrance. There was a caution sign out front, bright yellow and a little rusted. This mine was very similar to the last. They'd probably been owned by the same company.

The guys came back after only about twenty minutes. "Any luck?" I asked.

Sam cleared his throat. "No. Small mine. Next one's a cave." He pulled out the map and started plotting our course. We were at the next stop in an hour. I wasn't allowed in this one either. I sat in the symbol circle and studied the gaping opening of the cave. It was like a hill had swallowed my friends. Trees grew all around the entrance and up over the shallow roof as the cave dove into the earth. It was so dark after the first forty feet or so that I lost them before I expected them to be out of sight. Squirrels frolicked around the entrance and seemed to be searching for their stored nuts. Little flocks of birds would fly through the branches now and then, chirping out a discordant tune as they went.

It was getting dark when they came back. "Some trash, some graffiti, no Dean, no Wendigo." Sam said, coming to sit next to me. He'd been on his feet all day. "Three down, three to go."

"We need to make camp soon." Cas said.

"Yeah, yeah. I've got some sleeping bags and a tarp." Sam said, trailing off. Not finding Dean today must have weighed on him, but he set to work finding a good place to set up camp. It was a few hundred yards from the cave, on a relatively flat patch of land with relatively few briar bushes. He quickly surrounded the area with symbols and put me in it to start unpacking what we needed. We'd skipped lunch; I was starving for dinner.

Cas and Sam gathered wood for a fire and I attached the tarp to a few trees with adjustable zip ties to make a covered area. I even started the fire as they began building up a sizable pile of logs. I had two cans of stew and one of soup on the fire when they returned for the last time.

"Dinner is served, gentlemen." I pulled the cans from the fire with two sticks and we slowly enjoyed our piping hot dinner in silence. Even though I was pretty sure I burned my tongue, I was shivering when I finished the soup. So were Sam and Cas.

"So, I only had two sleeping bags." Sam remembered suddenly. "Who wants to bunk up?"

Blood rushed to my face as I realized that as the smallest, I would be the one sharing a sleeping bag. Cas volunteered to share with me as he saw how uncomfortable I was.

"If that's okay with you." Cas said. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to. You'll get a sleeping bag regardless."

He was the best friend I had. Granted, I only had three and two of them were usually away. "Yeah. Thanks Cas." I smiled.

"Remember to stay inside the circle, even if you hear someone screaming for help. Even if it's Dean's voice." Sam warned as he threw a few more logs on the fire.

"Okay." I said quietly. I was trying to hide how scared I was to sleep out here in the wilderness, under a flimsy tarp, surrounded by symbols and forest creatures and a Wendigo.

"We're right here, Allison." Cas said with kindness in his voice. "We won't let anything happen to you."

"Yeah, no. I know." I said, climbing into the big sleeping bag and immediately regretting my decision to lie on my left side. Needless to say, I rolled onto my right. Sam got deep into his sleeping bag, blow torch in hand, and soon Cas joined me in my bag. It wasn't nearly as awkward as I'd imagined it to be. He was so warm as he matched the curves of my body with his. He offered his arm as a pillow, which I gratefully accepted. My neck was sore from the bags and from shivering so violently earlier. We were both wrapped in at least three layers and then the sleeping bag, so I was able to stop shivering after a few minutes. I was almost asleep when I heard his breathing even out and get deeper. Then his arm, which had been resting on his side I guessed, fell over my hip and I couldn't help but blush in the flickering firelight. I fell asleep shortly after that, too exhausted to make any more fuss about it.

"I can't believe it!" He exclaimed, a huge smile coloring his face. I hadn't seen him in a week and hadn't left his embrace for the past ten minutes.

"I know, I just found out yesterday. I wanted to tell you in person." I couldn't control my smile either; it was almost as big as his. He bent down and kissed me. I melted into him and pulled him still closer until there was only one thing between us.

We kissed for a long time in that old yellow kitchen. The linoleum was warm and malleable under our feet and brilliant sunshine lit up my little spice garden in the window box before pouring into the kitchen. He'd done the dishes before I came home, I realized. We started dancing without any music, making our own as we went. He twirled me and dipped me and kissed me until the room spun.

"Okay, Mark. You're making me dizzy." I laughed. He pulled me over to the couch and sat me down on his lap.

"When can we tell our family?" He asked. He was always so close with his family, and mine too after we started dating. Now that we were married, our family gatherings were huge. The past two Christmases had to be held at the local community center to accommodate all the guests.

"Not for a little while." I said. "They recommend waiting a while before telling everyone. It's our little secret for now. Our very little secret." I leaned in for another kiss.

"You mean he is our very little secret." My husband smiled.

"Sam! Help me!" A loud voice ripped me from my dream and I felt Cas unzip the sleeping bag and stand, flare gun held ready. Sam was already up and standing near Cas, looking around the fire-lit campsite. I stood as well, moving to stand between Sam and Cas, since they'd taken my flare gun back after the last cave dive.

"Cas, please!" It shouted. It sounded just like Dean, but warped a little. Too low in pitch or too high when it spoke. Too rough and then too smooth. A cheap copy.

"Don't leave the circle." Sam warned, his eyes scanning the pitch black woods. Something rustled behind me and I whipped around. Sam followed the sound and Cas watched our backs. I caught a glimpse of a very pale streak as it seemed to fly over the ground just outside where the firelight illuminated the symbol ring. I gasped and drew closer to Cas, pressing my back to his.

"Stay calm." Cas murmured. "It can't cross the symbols."

I tried to control my breathing and found it easier than expected.

An object came flying at us from beyond the darkness. Sam knocked it out of the air. By the flickering light of the fire, we could all see that it was a boot.

An old, worn boot.

Dean's boot.

I heard Sam breath in sharply. He moved towards the edge of the circle. The fury seething off of him was almost visible. Without thinking, I ran over to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back from the edge of the circle. He came with little resistance.

The monster didn't return after it threw the boot, but Sam was distraught. Cas had to talk him out of leaving right then to pursue the thing.

No one slept any more that night.

 **A/N: What did you like? What did you not like? Any predictions? Let me know in the review box below! You don't have to leave your name if you don't want to. Thanks! See you soon.**


	9. White Eyes

**A/N: Vivi here! The last chapter was pretty short, so I figured I'd post this next one on the same day. Hope you enjoy White Eyes!**

At first light, Cas stomped out the fire. Sam and I packed everything into our bags as Cas prepped the flare guns and blow torches. The next stop, another cave, was about two hours walk from here. My feet ached and had gotten bigger since we stopped last night. I tried not to let the pain show.

I must admit that as we hiked, I was on edge. After finally having confirmation that it was indeed a Wendigo that took Dean, Sam had reluctantly given me a flare gun to hold while we walked. The beautiful green buds on the trees and hints of green throughout the forest floor were deceivingly enchanting; it was like they were watching us, in cahoots with the monster. It felt like more than two hours before the next cave came into sight.

"It's gotta be in there." Sam said as we approached. He held is flare gun ready and waited until Cas and I had put our things down. Then we took the guard and he set his things on our pile and carved out some symbols in the hard earth around us. "Ali-"

"I know, Sam. Stay in the circle. Go find Dean." They headed in and I did a quick scan of my surroundings, checking for anything unusual or out of place. There were some scratches on the trees outside the cave, which I was sure one of the guys had seen. I listened hard for anything; a call from the cave, a rustle in the bushes, a scream from the cheap copy of Dean's voice, a call from Dean's real voice, anything. It was an hour of tense silence before they emerged.

"Dean?" I called out. "Cas? Sam?"

"No Dean." Cas replied as they came into the light. Sam looked ready to move on. We were out in the woods again in no time.

"We'll find him, Sam." I said, breathing hard from walking up a steep hill as we followed in the younger Winchester's footprints. The guy could really set a pace. I was having trouble keeping up.

"Yeah…" He said halfheartedly. I didn't want to push him any further and risk him falling off the edge of whatever hope he had left after last night.

The next stop was yet another mine. Sam had the symbols drawn almost before we set our things down. He and Cas went right inside, leaving me in the happy little circle as usual. This mine didn't have anything outside but one old, wooden sign above the wooden door, which had been nailed shut and barred with thick slabs of lumbar at one time in history. It was apparently one of the old F.R.A. Co. mines, which seemed pretty common around this area of the country.

I took a few minutes to scan my surroundings. There were no scratch marks on the nearby trees. The leaf litter didn't seem disturbed except where we had entered the area. A soft wind had started to blow, sending wafts of cold air down through the forest and making me shiver. The sky was overcast; I imagined that it might frost again tonight. A sense of loss hit me as I looked at all the little buds on the trees and the small plants just poking through the leaf litter. They might freeze tonight and not make it past the thaw.

There was a boot behind that tree. My eyes, which had been wandering the green sprouts of the forest floor, locked onto it as if it were a bomb.

I stood like a flash and went to the edge of the symbol ring to get a better look. It was the counterpart to the one that had been thrown at us last night, which Sam had tied to his pack. I could even see a sock hanging out of it. Why would the Wendigo steal Dean's sock and boot… unless Dean's foot was still inside…

I swallowed the lump in my throat and scanned my surroundings again before leaving the circle, flare gun ready. Grabbing the boot, I rushed back into the circle. I took a deep breath before looking down at it.

There was no foot in it. No blood on it either. I breathed a sigh of relief.

But that meant that Dean could actually be in this mine. I dropped the boot beside Sam's pack and gripped my flare gun tightly. Sam had mentioned that this was the largest mine on our trip; they'd need help surveying it. And I was like eighty percent sure there was a Wendigo inside.

Not letting myself talk me out of it, I donned my headlamp, grabbed an extra flashlight, and put a blow torch from Sam's duffel into my pocket. The flare gun would not leave my hand unless it was spent but I wanted a backup plan. I took another deep breath and stepped over the ring of symbols.

Time to explore a dangerous abandoned mine.

It smelled musty and stale as I entered. The rotting wood and clay along the walls seemed to give off a perfume of their own, bathing the space. The corridors were narrow and held up by many aging, semi-rotted wooden beams. My eyes stayed towards the darkness or the floor at all times; I didn't' want to think about the mine collapsing around me.

I came to a fork in the hall too soon. "Sam?" I called into the darkness softly. "Cas?" They must have been too far down the tunnels already. I went left and found another fork. I went left again. Maybe if I kept going left, I wouldn't lose my way.

Every so often, I would glance over my shoulder and check the hall behind me before returning to the hall before me. The corridors grew more and more narrow and soon it was just wide enough for my shoulders to pass comfortably through. I thought about going back, or calling for the guys again. I decided to let Cas know where I was.

"Uh, hey Cas. I'm praying to you because I'm in the mine. Surprise. I found Dean's other boot behind a tree and I'm pretty sure the Wendigo is in here. I went left at every fork from the entrance, and now I'm in a pretty narrow corridor. I'm gonna keep going until I have to turn around, so come find me if you don't find anything. Thanks. Oh, and I have the extra blow-" I had turned to look down the hall behind me and saw a figure there when my headlamp turned. It was tall and had no shoes.

But its eyes were bright white. I screamed as loud as I could and shined my flashlight behind me as I ran forward as fast as possible. I hoped that the light would slow it down. The thing behind me howled and gave chase. A little ways up the tunnel, I could see a break in the wall. A small room, perhaps? It looked like I could just fit through the crack; I hoped that the Wendigo couldn't.

Just before I slipped through the crack, the monster took a swipe at me, ripping through my three layers of clothes. I was out of its reach, but it was out of my range of sight before I was able to pull the trigger on my flare gun. I was breathing heavily, adrenaline pulsing through me and I wiggled my way further down the crack until it widened out into a small cavern. It was cool, but not nearly as cold as it was outside. I noticed a pool of water to one side and a drop off on the other that wasn't filled with water. I shined my light around the room, trying to regain my composure.

I was trapped by a Wendigo that had kidnapped and possibly killed my friend in a tiny cavern in an abandoned mine in the middle of the vast forest surrounding Centerville. No cell reception, no way to communicate with the guys except through one sided prayers to Cas. If he was even getting them. I sat against the wall near the exit crack for a few minutes, taking in the pain – physical, emotional – that I was feeling. The Wendigo was silent, so I had no idea whether or not it was still around. I only knew that it couldn't get to me in here.

Tears pooled in my eyes and I let my head rest back against the wall. Several deep breaths later, I blinked them back. Personal pep talks always helped me when exam time came around. Maybe they'd help now? "You can do this, Allison. You are strong, you are fast, you are smart. You can do this. Just get out of the mine and maybe you can kill it while it's eyes adjust. Just run hard and don't look back."

That helped a little. I stood and groaned as my feet and shoulder protested. The cavern really was small. Maybe there was another way out that I couldn't see. After a brief search, I didn't find another crack in the walls big enough for me to get through. They seemed to all end a few feet in anyway. Maybe the little pond had another cavern attached just on the other side of it…

A soft scratching sound came from behind me as I tried to see how deep the pool was. I turned around quickly, most of my energy zapped, and looked with my headlamp down into the pit, where I thought it had come from.

There was a muddy pile of clothes down there, pressed into a small dip in the wall. A green canvas jacket and maybe a black shirt in a little heap. Nothing that was big enough to hide Dean's six one frame. The drop off was about four feet so I dropped into it, wincing at the pain in my legs, and walked to where the pile was. I was thinking maybe a small animal dragged Dean's clothes in here to make a nest.

The pile wiggled slightly and I took a step back. I thought I saw something pink in there somewhere… Wild animals don't usually have pink showing, unless it was a nose… I took a deep breath and tightened my ponytail before approaching the pile again.

I pulled the jacket off of the pile.

Two big green eyes looked up at me. Something strong pulled at my heartstrings and I fell to my knees in front of the pile of clothes. "D-Dean?" I stammered. The toddler before me whimpered and I saw his little bottom lip start to tremble. He said something that sounded like 'Li'. A huge, sad smile spread across my face; we'd found Dean.

His tiny face was caked in dirt and snot and streaked with dried tears. He sat up and I could tell he was shivering. Hesitantly, I reached out and wiped some of the tears and dirt from his face. He leaned into my hand and started crying, sobbing loudly just like any other eighteen-month-old child would do. He was still loosely wrapped in a black t shirt but it was for a full grown man and provided little protection. I unzipped my coat and the jacket underneath and picked the child up. He didn't weight more than twenty-five pounds. I tucked him into the right side of my jacket and zipped it so that only his face was showing. I zipped the coat over that and shivered myself. He was freezing. His lips were even blue. I wondered how much longer he could have survived down in this pit, with the Wendigo prowling around.

I felt him move in my coat. I'd forgotten to tuck his bare feet in. With those secured, he settled down quickly, the sobs fading away into sighs of warmth and after a minute or so, sleep engulfed him. I wondered how long it had been since he'd slept. It must have been a long while for him to fall asleep with so much danger just a few feet away.

It took some effort, but I managed to get out of the pit without jostling Dean too much. He didn't even wake up. I glanced out the crack into the pitch darkness, but then heard a low growl. I ducked out of view before those white eyes could pierce my soul yet again.

"Hey, Cas, I'm praying here. I found Dean. He's… different now. Uh, we're in a little room just off of a really narrow hallway all the way to the left of the mine. The Wendigo is outside. I think it knows we're both in here. It won't leave and I don't have a clear shot. Come if you can. Please." I hoped that Cas could still hear his prayers. They hadn't arrived yet though, and I'd prayed a while ago.

Ten minutes later, I pulled my flare gun from my pocket and held it tightly in my left hand. Using my non-dominant hand was not ideal, but I supported Dean's weight with my right. I glanced back down the crack and saw the monster move past, further into the mine. I squeezed my way down the length of the crack and listened as its near silent steps moved out of earshot. I closed my eyes and hoped that it was far enough down that I could make the sprint to the outside, where I could stand even a little chance against it.

Like a bullet from a pistol, I burst from the crack, shining the flashlight over my shoulder to slow it down if it had seen or heard me. I sprinted as fast as I could while still keeping Dean with me. The corridor was so narrow that I had to run somewhat sideways to accommodate the extra width in my jacket.

An almighty roar erupted from deep within the mine.

I stifled a scream and pushed faster, keeping the flashlight on my shoulder as steady as possible while still holding the flare gun in the same hand. I made it to where the tunnel widened out a little and was able to run much faster. By then my calves burned and my lungs felt fit to burst, but I could hear its footsteps and that was a problem. It was getting so close I could hear it breathing by the time I passed the first fork in the tunnel I had come to. Day light hit my face and I ran with renewed vigor.

A voice called from a ways down the right side of the tunnel. "Ali?" Sam yelled. "Where's Dean?"

Cas must have heard my prayer and told Sam. But where was he now? I couldn't stop to acknowledge Sam or wonder about Cas. I was out of the tunnel before I heard Sam give chase. I knew he was looking for a clean shot. He needed to hit the Wendigo, not me.

I made a hard right out of the mine and kept going until I heard Sam's flare gun go off and a massive howl rip through the trees. Dropping to my knees, I slid to a stop in the loose dirt. I let the flare gun and the flashlight fall. I hugged even Dean closer to me, cradling him, and cried tears of fear, anguish, loss… pain.

So much pain. Through blurry eyes, I glanced at my left shoulder and saw that some of my jacket had become stained a darker shade of red than it had been before. The Wendigo did more damage than I'd thought, though I still had full range of motion. No muscle damage, probably.

Sam didn't come looking for me. I wondered why, but I needed a moment to compose myself anyway. I finished crying and made sure Dean was still comfortable. He wasn't sleeping, but looked about ready to; his eyelids bobbed and he pressed his ear against my chest like he was listening to my heart. I brushed more dirt from his cheeks and smiled. He was safe. He was here. Even if he was a little smaller than anticipated.

I found it difficult to stand with my aching legs and so much weight throwing off my center of balance, but I managed. The bags were still piled up, so I sat on them and waited for the guys to come back. Sam had dragged the nasty, dead thing behind a rotting log so I wouldn't see it's full form. Only a foot was showing. I'd have to thank him later.

The discharge of another flare gun hit my ears and my attention snapped back to the mine. I glanced down at Dean to see if he had heard it; he was sleeping soundly, thumb in his mouth. Rocking Dean was comforting, for some reason. I was still rocking him a few minutes of anxious worry later when the guys came out, panting.

"What happened?" I asked, staying seated. I wasn't sure if my legs would work if I stood.

"There were two." Cas grunted. He looked and walked like he'd been thrown to the ground pretty hard. Sam did too, for that matter. "We found Dean's pants and one sock. But no Dean. You said you found him?" Cas looked around the campsite, undoubtedly noticing a gross lack of adult Dean.

"Yeah, where is he?" Sam looked around too. His eyes slowly met mine. "Is he still in there? Did you leave him alone?" He almost growled the last phrase. I gave him a small smile and gestured for them to come closer. They seemed confused.

"You'll wake him." I pulled my jacket and coat aside a little so that they could see the tiny pink cheeks and blond tuft of hair that protruded from my jacket.

"What?" Sam stepped closer and knelt down in front of me, never taking his eyes off of the little bundle. "…Dean?"

Dean's eyes shot open and his thumb left his mouth immediately. He looked around for the person who had called his name, and when he saw Sam new tears erupted. He started talking. Well, babbling baby talk really, but some words made sense. "Am. Ammy." He was struggling to free his arms, so I opened my jacket a little more, not wanting to let too much cold air get to him. He pulled his arms free and wiggled around to face Sam, holding his hands out. I was surprised that he'd managed to get them through the big sleeves of the T shirt.

Sam looked unsure. He glanced up to me and I nodded. "You can take him, but keep him in your jacket. He's only got a T shirt on. Literally nothing else."

The younger Winchester unzipped his jacket and took Dean by the arms, settling him into the soft lining of the jacket. As he zipped it up, his nose crinkled. "What's that smell?" He looked down to Dean, who had fallen asleep again. His thumb was back in his mouth and the other hand was gripping the collar of Sam's shirt tightly.

"That is the scent of about two days' worth of number one and number two that have soaked into that T shirt." I pointed to the bump in Sam's jacket where Dean was sleeping. "I found him in a hole. He couldn't have gotten out. He had nowhere else to go. Not that a child that age is old enough to be potty trained anyway."

Sam looked like he was about to puke. "Warn a guy next time." He said, gagging.

"Hey, I've got it on me too, if that's any consolation." I showed Sam and Cas the still moist stains on the inside of my jacket.

"That doesn't seem sanitary." Cas said.

"No, Cas. It does not." I closed my jacket up. "We need to get moving. Tonight is going to be cold. Sam, do you think we can make it out before nightfall?" I asked.

Sam composed himself and pulled the map from his backpack, laying it out on the ground.

Riffling through my bag for some water for Dean, I found the blanket I'd packed. I gave it to Sam and soon Dean was hydrated and wrapped like a burrito, snoozing once again at Sam's side.

A few minutes of fancy compass work later, Sam spoke. "No. We're about a day and half away. We can be halfway back by nightfall, though, probably." He pointed into the trees, away from the mine. "We need to walk that way."

 **A/N: Leave a review and let me know what you think of our story so far!**


	10. The Boy I Never Knew

**A/N:** **Vivi here! Welcome back. Strong themes of personal loss in this chapter, folks. If you have problems with that sort of thing, please don't hurt yourself by reading or put yourself through this chapter unnecessarily. Stay strong!**

Sam forged our path through the thick undergrowth and Cas walked beside me for most of our trek. My feet were numb, making me unsteady. Occasionally I lost my balance or my footing was off and I'd fall. Cas caught me a few times, but I had briars in my hands and cuts on my arms after a while. I wasn't sure if it was the near freezing temperatures or the swelling and reopened cuts and blisters that were to blame for the numbness.

Shortly before nightfall, I fell and couldn't force myself to get up again.

"Sam, wait." Cas called. He knelt beside me. "Allison, can you go any further?"

"No. I don't think so." I said, shifting from my knees to sit on the side of my hip.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked. He'd walked back up the hill we were trying to go down.

"We should make camp." Cas said, looking up at the sky. The clouds had vanished, leaving a dark gray sky to frame the deep red sunset. "Tonight is not going to be easy. No clouds means near freezing temperatures with the weather like it is."

Sam followed his gaze and frowned. "Yeah, no kidding. Cas, you and I can gather wood. Allison, set up camp and watch Dean, okay?" He unzipped his jacket and produced a groggy but conscious Dean. I received him with a weak smile and tucked him away on my right side. I watched Sam draw the same symbols as earlier around a small flat area on the side of the hill, and then he added a few new ones that I didn't recognize.

Cas spoke after Sam had walked away to start the wood pile. "Allison, your breathing has steadily quickened since we left the mine earlier. Is something wrong?"

"I think the Wendigo may have gotten my shoulder." I pointed. My jacket was dark red, so I could see how they may have missed the blood.

Concern colored Cas' face as his eyes locked onto the four thin gashes. "I'd like to see the wounds. Would you take your coat off of your left shoulder?" I did as he asked, keeping Dean covered. Cas carefully peeled back my torn, blood caked shirt to reveal one pale left shoulder, sporting four rather deep cuts that looked angry and inflamed. He frowned and seemed upset. "Why didn't you mention this earlier?"

"I didn't want to seem like the weak link in the chain." I said.

"Well, now you are. You've lost enough blood to make you very weak, Allison. Not a life threatening amount, but enough."

"Good thing we stopped, right?" I said sheepishly.

"Stay still." He stood and looked through the bag he brought. "We don't have any bandages."

"I put some in my bag. In case Dean needed them when we found him." I said, pointing to the duffel I'd brought. Cas bandaged my shoulder quickly and helped me get my jacket and coat back on. Light was fading fast. I was instructed to sit still and stay warm.

I had almost passed out, or fallen asleep, by the time they finished the woodpile. Dean's nose was running like crazy and he coughed occasionally. Cas let Sam know what was going on and they got the campsite together without my help. Once a fire was going, I walked on my knees over to it and plopped down. The fire was hot enough that the area about three feet around it was fairly comfortable. I opened my jacket and let Dean see what was going on.

"There was a creek down the hill." Cas said. "I'll wash the shirt and we can dry it by the fire."

Dean was fairly compliant with being stripped naked. I think he was as uncomfortable wearing the soiled shirt as we were smelling it. I covered him up in the left side of my jacket, the unsoiled side, and tried to ignore the pain as he leaned into my tattoo while sitting on my lap. On his chest, I could see his anti-possession tattoo, looking very out of place on such a small body. I assumed his other warding was still in his ribs, but when I remembered that I still had my pendant I tightened the string and put it around Dean's neck and under his arm. Just to be safe.

Sam sat beside me, pulling out some canned goods as he got dinner going. Dean's stomach roared as the first wafts of baked beans began to circulate. He squirmed, but I held him down, not wanting him to get near the fire. Frustrated, he started pouting and pushing on my arms.

"Dean, calm down. It'll be ready soon." Sam said as he noticed his brother's distress. "I gave you a granola bar earlier. You've eaten the most of any of us today."

"He also hasn't eaten in a few days." I pointed out. Cas returned with a clean and very cold, wet t shirt. He put it between two sticks stuck in the ground near the fire and settled on my other side.

"Sam, we need to tell her what we found in the mine." Cas said a few minutes later.

"Right. So me and Cas were hunting around in the mine, probably about the time you went in, and we found the Wendigo's bone dump. That's where we found Dean's clothes. But get this: the walls were covered in a bunch of funny looking graffiti in bright red paint. Then we found a shallow metal bowl with spell ingredients in it." Sam said. He was stoking the fire, trying to get the food ready quicker.

"I recognized the symbols and the ingredients." Cas said. "It's a binding spell."

"What's a binding spell?" I asked. I readjusted Dean on my lap as he had squirmed onto his back and his feet were too close to the fire for my liking.

"It is a spell used by witches to trap and enslave another creature." Cas said.

"Yeah. I've seen them used before." Sam said. "We think a witch was behind the kidnappings in town, specifically from that house. It had its pet Wendigoes take people for it."

"Do you think it put this spell on Dean?" I asked. He'd finally given up his squirming and was playing with the buttons on my jacket.

"I don't know." Sam said. "I don't know why it would make him a baby instead of… Yeah. I don't know how we're gonna find it to reverse this either."

"Do you think that the witch is in these woods?" I asked, looking around the now darkened forest. "Could it be looking for us?"

Cas and Sam exchanged nervous glances. "I added some witch warding to the Anasazi symbols. It should keep them out, but I'll take first watch, just to be safe." Sam said.

"I'll take the second." Cas volunteered.

We ate our dinners in silence. I fed Dean as much canned stew as he could eat. I figured he could use the extra fat and salt from the cheap canned meal. He drank more water than I thought he could hold before passing out in my lap. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I wiped some snot from his face. The shirt was dry by then, so I put it back on him and tied up the extra on the bottom to keep his feet warm. I grabbed the last can of soup from beside the fire for myself.

Sam spoke up as I started my meal. He and Cas had finished theirs already. "Were you a babysitter before college?" He asked.

I looked up, slightly surprised. "No, why?"

"You seem to know what you're doing."

A weak, sad smile painted my lips as I looked down at Dean, whose cheeks were flushed like a drunk. "I took classes." I whispered.

"You took childcare classes? For what?" Sam asked. "Were you gonna be a pediatrician?"

"No, I couldn't work with kids." I said, imagining the screaming, red faced infants that I'd dealt with on hospital rounds. I cringed at the thought.

"What for then?" Sam asked.

Memories came flooding back to me and I tried to keep the tears from falling out of my eyes. Hiding my face from them was hard with my hair pulled back and wrapped in a thick bun. Eventually, a few drops fell onto Dean's forehead and I wiped them off. "They tell you having nieces and nephews is the best birth control." I said quietly, my nose already completely blocked. "It was the opposite problem for us."

"Allison, you don't have to tell us anything you don't want to." Cas said gently, touching my back. I smiled and snorted softly.

"It's okay. No secrets, right? I've been keeping this one for a while now." I sniffed the snot back into my nose and looked at the fire, trying not to break down just yet. "Did you know that demons can possess pregnant women but not the baby?" Sam inhaled sharply as he realized what I was trying to say. Cas stiffened and couldn't look at me. He didn't remove his hand though, which I was grateful for. "I never told you Cas. The first thing the demon did was kill my son. He was only eighteen weeks along. When you healed me after the fight in the barn… you took him." A soft sob ripped through my chest. "I felt him go." I stifled the ones that followed with my hand, not wanting to wake Dean.

"Allison, if I had known-" Cas started.

"There was nothing you could have done, Cas. I've read all about it in those Men of Letters archives. He was dead before you fought the demon. He was dead before I left my apartment after it possessed me. I think it was mad that it couldn't have all of me." I swallowed hard, but smiled. "My husband and I used to go to training classes. He couldn't keep a plant alive, so I insisted. I learned a lot of hands on things. How to change a diaper quickly without leaks. How to swaddle a newborn. How to comfort a sick baby. Things they don't teach you in medical school. Things you can't read in books." I let out a soft laugh. "I used to practice on my nieces and nephews. We loved playing together." My eyes met Sam's. "They were so happy to see me. They invited the demon in. They gave it a can of soda and asked to build a pillow fort. The demon killed them. And I watched."

Sam and Cas moved closer to me. "Allison…" Sam started before trailing off.

"Thank you for telling us." Cas said. "It couldn't have been easy for you to let that out."

The tears spilled and I looked to Cas. "It wasn't."

Sam saw that I was about to fall apart and pulled me close. Cas rubbed his hand back and forth slowly over my back. I melted into Sam and sobbed.

Usually, I'm not one for long hugs. But this one was actually… nice. I let the pain out and they held me together. Their eyes were a little red too by the time I could breathe normally again.

"Get some rest. You too, Cas." Sam told us as he pushed me back into a seated position.

"Yeah, yeah. Of course." I plucked the still sleeping Dean from my lap and held him against my shoulder, where his head could rest comfortably. Cas helped me stand. My legs were jelly. I felt like jelly through and through. My brain was jelly, my emotions were jelly, my feet were jelly… "Cas, I would really appreciate some company again tonight."

Cas seemed confused but when I motioned to the sleeping bag it seemed to click. He smiled gently. "I can do that."

All three of us piled into the sleeping bag. It must have been a little larger than a twin size. Cas and I faced each other, our foreheads almost touching, his arm under my head, with Dean in between so he wouldn't be cold when the frost settled.

Sometime in the night, Sam woke Cas to switch shifts; they woke me too, by accident. The nightmare I'd been weathering faded away as I focused my eyes on Cas' face. He left the sleeping bag and Sam started towards his. "Sam, someone needs to stay on the other side of Dean." I could feel the bitter cold seeping in from the other side of the bag. I pulled Dean closer to me. Even this close to the fire, the cold was vicious. I have to admit, I wasn't totally comfortable sleeping this close to any of the guys, but Dean needed us right now. He could freeze to death even in the sleeping bag with me.

Sam hesitated, but got in the bag with us anyway. He took up more space than Cas, but there was plenty to go around. Dean woke up when Sam's cold jacket zipper touched his arm. He gasped and started squirming away from the cold. I pulled him closer still, into my unzipped jacket, and wrapped my arms around him. I cooed to him and whispered, "It's okay." He calmed down quickly. Sam's clothes warmed up quickly enough and I put Dean back in the middle, sound asleep yet again.

"You would have been a great mom." Sam whispered.

I smiled to myself and let the heartache pulse through my chest; it was my constant lullaby nowadays. "Good night, Sam."

He stretched his arm over my head. "Need a pillow?" I accepted. I wasn't great friends with Sam before that night, but as my head rested on arm and his hand rested curled around my shoulders, I decided I felt safe with him around. Not to mention comforted.

I moved my hand to rest on Dean's stomach. It was something they taught us in class to help troubled babies sleep. My hand met Sam's; he'd beaten me to it. I smiled and settled for cupping a tiny foot instead.

 **A/N: Review please! And just as a formality, I do not own anything but the order of the words on these pages. Thanks, y'all!**


	11. Cereal, Pain Meds, and a Rude Awakening

**A/N: Vivi here! Long chapter, couldn't find a good breaking point. Enjoy!**

The next morning, my forehead was pressed against Sam's and Dean had wiggled all the way up against him. I woke up first and quickly located Cas, who was heating something in a small tin over the fire. I gently shook Sam's shoulder to wake him.

Dean was much happier today than he had been yesterday. We ate and Sam gave him some more water; we noticed he hadn't gone in the night, which worried me. I wiped more snot from his nose and Sam packed him into his jacket. Then we set off for the long hike back to the Impala.

The going was slow. My feet ached, my shoulder throbbed with each step, and my legs still hurt. It felt like my very bones were sore. That was probably from losing so much blood. I was the weakest link, I realized.

We came to a small river and Sam handed Dean to Cas, who passed him to me. Cas' coat wasn't thick enough to keep Dean warm for very long. Sam was finding a good place to cross the freezing but not frozen river when we heard chanting echoing from the woods behind us. It seemed to be coming from the whole of the forest on our side of the river.

Cas drew his angel blade and Sam had his gun out before I even turned around. I held Dean tight against me, getting ready to run. Cas began following the noise into the woods and I lost sight of him.

"Ali, hurry." Sam motioned for me to come closer. He had found a good crossing place. It was shallow enough that I was able to keep most of my shins dry but the icy water numbed my feet before I was halfway across. Sam followed close behind me.

Cas came running and crossed where Sam pointed. He was breathing hard. "I couldn't find the source."

"We need to get out of here." Sam said, scanning the forest line. We jogged for a fair distance, until the voice had faded from earshot. "Just a few more hours and we'll be out of this hell-hole."

"What was it saying, Cas?" I asked, pushing a branch out of my way only to be swatted on the arm by another.

"A location spell. It wants to find us and it knows we're close. However, we're all warded." Cas said. "It shouldn't have anything to track us with."

"How much farther?" I asked.

"Ten miles. Maybe three hours. That way." We hiked as fast as we could through the low hanging branches and over the steep hills. The voice could be heard echoing through the valleys a few times as we walked, but it was never as loud as before. The witch was following us, but not well enough to stay close or figure out exactly where we were.

We'd walked about two and half hours when I felt a tug at my side. I thought it was Dean, but he was napping when I checked on him. One hand gripping the collar of my shirt, the other with its thumb in his mouth.

The tugging continued until I felt the need to speak up.

Cas seemed mildly concerned, but didn't stop walking. "The witch is trying to pinpoint you specifically. It must have found some of your blood in the mine. The sensation you're experiencing is from your warded tattoo. That's how you know it's working."

"Oh." I said. "Okie dokie then."

We reached the Impala just before sundown. I scooted into the backseat and turned Dean around to face the front as he sat in my lap, snoozing. I buckled us both in as the guys got in the front seat. They'd already thrown the bags in the trunk. Careful not to wake Dean, I took my pendant off of him and put it on myself. It was dangerous for him to wear it when not needing it. The thing was small enough to swallow and the cord was strong.

"What are we gonna do about this curse?" I asked. "We can't just leave him like this."

Sam thought for a moment and frowned. "We need to regroup. If that witch is powerful enough to trap two Wendigoes, we're gonna need a solid plan before going in." He glanced at Dean. "He's alive. He's here. That's all that matters."

"Then we need to get a car seat." I mumbled, falling asleep. I hadn't realized how exhausted I was until I sat in the safe, warded, familiar leather seats.

"We can stop by a store and then head to a motel." Sam said as we headed down the road.

The nearest store with car seats was thirty minutes away. We stopped and left Sam in the car with Dean; I had Sam's credit card stuffed into my duffel. Cas and I strolled through the childcare aisles, filling a cart with everything we would need at the bunker to take care of Dean until the spell could be reversed. Diapers, sippy cups, baby safe foods, some toys, a pacifier, tissues, a snot sucker, lots of clothes, two soft baby blue blankets, and a car seat nearly filled the shopping cart.

"We should get another medical kit and cereal too." I said as we finished in the baby section. After a long yawn, I added, "Kids love cereal."

"Lead the way." Cas said. He followed me, pushing the cart that I was too weak to move.

After we picked up a nice medical kit, we arrived in the cereal aisle. I picked up a suitable box. As I turned to put it in the cart, I froze.

Cas was fighting four people; three looked like employees and one was a soccer mom. Two more people grabbed my arms and were dragging me away from Cas, down the aisle and towards the exit. I called out to him and he ran after me, abandoning his fight. His hand gripped mine and he pulled hard.

Too hard.

The pain of the broken ribs filled my mind and the overwhelming darkness enveloped me after one shelf hit my head.

"Allison." I blinked my eyes a few times. Color slowly filled my vision again and my eyes came into focus. Cas was standing in front of me, gently shaking my shoulders. "Come back. Come back to me."

I blinked again and had to refocus my eyes on his. "I got the cereal." I held up the box and Cas pulled me into a deep hug. "What are you doing, Cas?" I said into his coat. I was pushing back the tears that caused bright red embarrassment to seep onto my face.

"You called out for me. Exactly like you had when we were attacked. I thought you were having a hallucination." Cas said, releasing me after a few seconds.

I shrugged. "I haven't been in a cereal aisle since. By the way, it was the demon that made my hands shake after that day. You know that right? It was afraid of you. Not me." I said softly.

"You played a part as well, I believe. I scarred you." He said.

"Let's talk about this later. We need to get Dean home." I said, trying to dodge the conversation.

"Will we talk about it later?" Cas asked. I tossed the cereal box into the cart.

"We need milk too."

The Lavender Petal Motel certainly did not smell like lavender. However, it smelled better than the four people who hadn't bathed in several days when they entered. Sam set Dean down on one of the beds and pulled the bedsheets over him. He was sleeping in no time, blowing snot bubbles from his nose.

"Can I see your shoulder, Ali?" Sam asked. He'd taken a seat at the little table near the window. I joined him as Cas headed for the shower.

"It's not too bad." I said, shedding my coat, then jacket. There was a nasty draft coming from the old window, but the rest of the room was warm. The cold stung as it touched my raw flesh.

"Cas said the Wendigo got you?" He asked, pulling his chair closer.

"Yeah, just as I found the cavern where Dean was." I said. With one deep breath, I pulled the soiled gauze from my shoulder and tried to ignore the little black spots in my vision from the pain. "It's just a scratch."

Sam frowned and gently touched the area around the cuts. "You're pretty warm. Do you feel cold?"

"No, I don't think I have a fever." I said, my eyes turning to Dean. He had rolled over and was sleeping on his stomach. "He really shouldn't sleep on his tummy."

"He's fine. Let me clean this off, okay? Then we'll get you patched up." The antiseptic wash from the new med kit stung more than the wound itself did. When the gauze was finally on, I was spent. Sam helped me to the empty bed. I lay down and groaned. The aching was everywhere, head to toe.

"Do you want any pain meds?" Sam asked. "The kit had some…"

"Why not?" I said weakly. "What's in there?"

Sam handed me some aspirin. I took a few pills and lay back down. This headache was going to split my head in two. Briefly, I thought about taking a shower and getting the nasty smells off of me, but I fell asleep too quickly after the pills kicked in.

I woke up to Dean wailing at the top of his lungs and Cas desperately trying to console him. He was holding Dean, who was still in the T shirt, against his chest and Dean was bawling madly. I wondered why they hadn't put him in pajamas; he must be cold. Sam was nowhere to be seen, but the bathroom door was closed and I thought I heard water running.

With mild difficulty, I sat up and motioned for Cas to bring Dean over. He seemed relieved as he handed me the screaming infant.

"Dean." I said, holding him in my lap so that he had to face me. His eyes were squeezed shut and he hadn't stopped crying. His whole face was red; snot and tears streamed freely. I pulled the sheets up and over both of us, so that we were in our own warm little world. "Dean, look." I said putting extra excitement into my voice. I gasped as though I'd just seen the most amazing thing ever.

His wail faltered and he opened his eyes curiously. The crying stopped as he looked around and saw we were under the sheet. "Hi." I said softly, taking his hands in mine. I held them gently until his breathing leveled out. "What's up?"

He took a shaky breath and looked at me before pulling his hands away and pushing them against his stomach. Then he hugged himself and shook his head a little.

"Hungry and cold? Let's fix that." I took the sheet down and wrapped it around Dean. Cas brought over the bag of clothes and food we'd purchased the day before. Soon, Dean was cleaned up and dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, with thick socks. I gave him some dry cereal to munch on until we got on the road for a real breakfast. He was very happy when he saw the food.

Sam emerged from the shower looking tired but clean. "He finally stopped crying?"

"Yeah, he was hungry." I said, pouring out a few more pieces of cereal for Dean to pick up with his chubby fingers.

"Oh." Sam said, somewhat surprised. "But I fed him last night after you fell asleep."

"His stomach is several times smaller than yours, Sam." I said. "It empties faster."

"Huh." He and Cas finished packing their things. I hadn't taken anything out so I just watched Dean. He wasn't a big fan of the car seat when the time came for us to head out, but he surrendered after a few minutes of futile resistance. The straps and buckles where too strong for him to get out of.

We stopped for a quick breakfast, then a few hours later a quick lunch, and finally, we arrived back at the bunker. The sun was getting ready to set and the sky was a gorgeous orange when we pulled into the garage.

The guys unloaded our things and I took Dean out of his car seat. I groaned when I realized what I'd forget to buy at the store. "Guys, I didn't get a crib."

"He can sleep with me." Sam said.

"That's not a good idea; you could roll over on him." I said, holding the sleeping toddler against my right shoulder. The left hadn't stopped throbbing quite yet and my tattoo was still a little sore.

"I'll be careful." He flashed me a quick smile.

I frowned but didn't fight him. Dean was his brother, after all.

Dinner was quick, just like the other meals. Cas pulled out some frozen soup that had been in the freezer for a few weeks and heated it up. Sam fed Dean this time. When I finished my bowl there was somehow soup halfway up the wall.

"Well I smell terrible." I said, standing from the table as Dean smacked another spoonful of soup at wall, laughing the whole time. I was surprised he hadn't thrown the whole bowl; he was sitting on the table right in front of it.

"Dude, stop. That's not funny." Sam said to Dean. He was getting frustrated.

"I agree. To both statements." Cas said suddenly, wiping away soup that had landed on his face.

"Cas." Sam turned, sounding indignant. "You don't just say that. Especially to a girl."

"Why not? She brought it up first. I don't understand."

"It's not polite." Sam said. Dean made a move for the bowl, but Sam held him back and picked the bowl up. He downed the remainder in one go. Dean seemed disappointed. I watched Sam stand and grab a towel from the oven handle.

"It's true though." I said, scrunching my nose. "By the way, has anyone given Dean a bath?"

"Yeah, at the motel." Sam said. He was trying to clean the soup off of the wall before it dried and became a permanent addition to the small kitchen.

"Good." I yawned and started for the bathroom.

The shower stung. That made my eyes sting. Pink water flowed down the drain for a few minutes until all the blood was washed from my shoulder and feet. I had to wash my hair at an angle so no soap got into my gashes; that would have pushed the tears over the edge. Finally, wrapped in a towel, I reached down for my clothes and realized I hadn't brought any.

I mentally kicked myself. I hated being even semi-exposed around the guys. Hopefully they'd still be confined to the kitchen.

"Whatever." I mumbled to myself. The air in the hallway was getting cooler; the boilers must have turned off already. I tried to make it to my room without being seen, but of course, everyone was leaving the kitchen at the same time.

Cas saw me and his eyes got wide before he turned away, his head lowered. He went back into the kitchen as Dean was toddling out, followed closely by Sam. Someone had tied the T shirt higher so that it hung only to his knees.

"Cas?" Sam said as he saw Cas' strange posture. Then he saw me and said, "Ah. I see. Forget your stuff?"

Blood rushed to my cheeks and I held the towel on tighter. "Yes."

"You seem to have upset the angel." He said, moving to follow Dean, who was quickly making his way down the hall.

I followed behind them on the way to my room. "I noticed."

"Your shoulder looks a little better." He said.

"Yeah, it's not as red anymore. They're sealing up pretty well." I said. "I really hope there was nothing nasty on those claws."

"We can take you to a doctor if you really want to go." Sam said.

"Well, I'll wait and see what happens. If it gets that bad, I'll let you know."

Dean arrived at his destination and slammed his hand against his bedroom door, which was closed. Sam frowned. "Do you think he can sleep in his own bed, on his own?" He asked.

I was just about to duck in my room, but turned to answer. "I wouldn't recommend it. He could fall right off and hurt himself. The floor is concrete and the bed is pretty high. If he sleeps with you, will you be able to keep him from falling off?"

"I think so. How hard can it be?" Sam opened the door to Dean's room and went to his own. I went into my own room, but remembered all the weapons that Dean had on his walls and in his quarters. Without hesitation, I ran into Dean's room. He was already sitting on the floor, playing with a clip of bullets, about to toss one in his mouth. I swatted it away and picked him up, delivering him to Sam's room. Dean pouted and grumbled in baby babble.

"He almost swallowed a bullet." I said, struggling to hold both the squirming toddler and my towel with my shoulder in such bad repair.

"Dude." Sam took Dean and looked him in the eye. "What's wrong with you?"

Dean's eyes started to water and his lip began to tremble. I noticed that his nose had been running again. I pulled up a spare corner of my towel and, careful not to reveal anything, wiped his nose.

"Sam, he's just having a hard time with the spell. Give him a little bit of time to adjust." I said softly. "It can't be easy being in a body that small again. The urges he's feeling are totally different than what he's used to."

"What do you mean?"

"Toddlers explore, they get into things they shouldn't and put things into their mouths. It's what they do. When you have the urge to go jogging, do you?" I asked.

"Yeah, usually." Sam replied.

"Well, he just had the urge to literally bite a bullet. And unlike jogging, that's not good for him." My hair was getting cold and sent little jolts of pain through me as strands touched my raw shoulder and the cuts that continued down my back. "Just keep a closer eye on him, please? Don't let him go anywhere you can't see him."

Sam sighed. "I've never had to take care of a kid before. Well, for more than a few hours."

"It's difficult." Cas came down the hall and paused in Sam's doorframe next to me. He still wouldn't look at me though.

"But you'll have us, Sam." I said. "We're not going anywhere."

Sam's smile was smaller than I'd hoped. He set Dean down on his bed and ran his hands through his own hair. "We gotta fix this soon."

"Agreed." Cas said.

"Can we start tomorrow?" I asked. "I'm drained."

"Yeah, no, of course." Sam said, taking a deep yawn. Dean did the same. They had the same yawn, I noticed.

"Good night, guys." I said softly. "Come get me if you need me, Sam."

"Thanks. G'night Ali, Cas." Sam said.

I got dressed and took the bag of Dean's new clothes to Sam's room so Dean could have pajamas to sleep in. "Hey, Ali?" Sam stopped me before I could leave. "How do you change a diaper?"

That night, I slept on my right shoulder. The gauze I'd replaced on the left shoulder stuck to me and kept me from getting any deep sleep. On one hand I was glad to be spared the awful nightmares that raked my brain every night. On the other hand I was exhausted and the body needs sleep to repair itself. The shallow unconsciousness that I was able to attain was a sorry excuse for sleep.

The quality of my rest was so bad that at about three in the morning, I heard a soft thump. I thought it was just one of the guys getting up. Probably Sam, since Cas slept on the cot in the library.

Then I heard the muffled wail. I groaned as I got out of bed. My instincts knew even before I reached Sam's door that Dean had fallen out of bed.

I knocked lightly. "Sam? Everything okay?" The wailing hadn't stopped but had quieted significantly.

The door opened and I squinted at the light from the desk lamp. Sam was holding Dean, trying to stop the tears. Both of them had red, puffy eyes. One from lack of sleep and one from crying and what seemed to be the beginnings of a nasty cold. "Everything's fine. Dean woke up." Sam said. I pushed past him, into the room. At this hour, all politeness had been left in my soft, warm bed. Tucking in the sheets of the bed would probably keep Dean from falling out again, as long as he stayed under them. The bunker was so cold that I was sure he wouldn't readily emerge. With that done, I went back to the door and wiped a tear from Dean's cheek. I smiled sleepily and patted Sam's hand where it held Dean against his shoulder.

"Get some sleep. Don't let him untuck the sheets." I said. My bed was still warm.

 **A/N: Review please and thank you!**


	12. John-John and Sam Try to Adjust

**A/N: Vivi here! I updated the story summary, so don't be surprised! It's still the same plot and everything. Also, I promise the title of this chapter will make more sense after you read it. Enjoy!**

Cereal was added to the remnants of soup on the wall the next morning. Dean looked and acted well rested, but Sam was falling asleep at the table. I knew for a fact that he hadn't slept well, if at all, for at least four nights. I took the bowl of dry cereal from him and pulled Dean closer to me on the table. "Sam, go back to bed."

He looked like he was going to protest, but then his eyelids drooped and snapped up again. The younger Winchester stood and shuffled from the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

"You are very maternal." Cas said from his seat at the table across from me. He was enjoying a cup of coffee with a few pieces of cereal in it. Those pieces had missed the wall when Dean flung them.

I looked at him, my brows knit in confusion and my stomach threatening to twist at the first hint of a memory. "Why would you say that?"

"You seem to take it upon yourself to ease the burdens of others while taking those burdens on yourself." He said. "I have seen human mothers do the same for thousands of years."

I let Dean have another handful of cereal, half of which he attempted to shove in his mouth. The other half went all over the table. He seemed to enjoy chasing the pieces that were within arm's reach. "I like to think of it as leveling out the yolk. Sam hasn't had a decent rest for days and I have, so I'm trying to give him a change to sleep. You came to me with those awful wounds and I, being able-bodied at the time, fixed you up." I shrugged. "I don't see it as taking on new burdens, per se. I see it as helping my friends."

"And now you're helping Dean acclimate to his new situation because he helped you acclimate to yours?" Cas asked.

"I guess so." I said softly. Dean had been the one to finally get me to start moving forward after I moved in. For the first few days, I did little else but sleep and cry. He would check in on me every hour, on the dot, to see if I needed anything. In a moment of weakness, after about the sixth day, I asked for something. "A backrub."

I remembered immediately regretting the request. It was something I had only ever requested of Mark. My husband had known exactly what to do if I was upset. He'd join me on the couch or the bed and just rub my back until I stopped crying.

Honestly, I was shocked when Dean walked over, without a word, and sat on my bed. I'd been curled up in the fetal position for hours at that point. He rubbed my back for a long time without asking me to explain myself. I actually fell into a deep, restful, dreamless sleep for the first time since moving into the bunker. That was the turning point for me, I think. That was when I began to trust the Winchesters. They'd reinforce my trust again and again in the next few months, but that was the start of it all.

Dean threw a handful of cereal at Cas and laughed loudly. That snapped me back and I smiled too as Cas looked back with wide, surprised eyes. He looked as if his delicate, new human feelings had been hurt.

"He's just playing, Cas." I said, the smile lingering on my lips.

"Human children are exceedingly strange. Do they commonly find violence pleasurable?" Cas asked, removing a few pieces of cereal from his hair.

"At this age, physical comedy is the only kind they get." I took the bowl of cereal away again. "That wasn't very nice, Dean. Be nice to the angel." Dean smirked at me and put the rest of the cereal from his hand into his mouth

Later that day, that evening actually, Sam reemerged and was looking much better. "How's the shoulder, Ali?"

"Painful." I said. "But not infected, I don't think. We'll have to wait a while longer to see." Dean was happily playing with a set of wooden blocks we'd purchased with the car seat.

"Do you need anything?" Sam asked, heading with coat in hand towards the garage.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"The store. I'm getting a crib before he breaks his arm. Cas, need anything?" Sam asked.

"Peanut butter." Cas didn't look up from the book he had been reading all day. This time, it was all about binding spells. That was his new theory; something had put a binding spell on his grace.

"Ali? Anything?" Sam asked.

"Can I come with you? I have a whole list."

"Yeah, sure. Are you leaving Dean with Cas?" Sam asked. Cas finally looked up. His face was colored with anxiety. I had wanted to leave Dean here, but I wasn't sure Cas was up to it.

"No, I should bring him along. Give me a minute." I packed up my green, flowery duffel bag with baby essentials for the trip. Turns out I hadn't emptied it after our trip to Missouri. I took out all my clothes, but left some of the spare bandages in the bottom before loading in diapers, wipes, and all the other things. I joined Sam and Dean in the Impala. Dean hated the car seat and he let us know for a solid ten minutes before settling down.

Upon our arrival at the grocery store in town, Sam headed for the baby section and I strapped Dean down into a cart before heading for the grocery section. The duffel settled into the bottom of the cart; it was heavy and wore at my shoulder.

Dean was playing with a little black sports car toy when an elderly woman came up to us. I had my head in a freezer and started at her voice when she spoke.

"Is this your son?" She asked. The lady was in her sixties, if not seventies. Colorful clothing, cart filled with nonperishables.

"Y-yes." I said nervously, closing the freezer.

"Isn't he just adorable? What's his name?" The woman smiled and winked at Dean, who looked at me with concern.

"John." I said, pretending to dote on the toddler. I picked him up and out of the woman's reach and took his hand. "Wave 'hi', John-John." I noticed that his nose was running again.

"He is too cute. How old is he?"

"Eighteen months this week." I said, smiling at Dean while still watching the woman from the corner of my eye. "Isn't that right, baby? You're getting so big."

"Well, I won't bother you anymore. Keep up the good work, mommy. Bye John-John." She said, strolling away.

I let out a shaky breath and hugged Dean close to me for a moment before wiping his nose. "That was close. I was sure she was a demon." Dean let out a breath like mine and I set him back in the cart.

We finished shopping quickly. I was never more than a foot from Dean. Pretty soon, we met up with Sam, who had picked up a playpen, not a crib. "You know that's not a crib, right?" I said.

"But it says they can sleep in here." He said, looking the box over.

"They can. It'll work, but it's not a crib." I said. "I mean, lots of toddlers sleep in playpens until they get big kid beds. I just wanted to make sure you knew the difference."

"I do now." Back at the bunker, I put all the groceries away and had Cas watch Dean for the few minutes it took to accomplish my task. Sam was already busy putting the playpen together.

Just as I finished putting the peanut butter away in the cupboard, I heard Dean scream. Rushing to the library, I saw Cas throw him high into the air and catch him.

My hand jumped to my chest to try to calm my pounding heart. Dean squealed with glee again as Cas tossed him up and caught him. "Cas, you scared me." I said.

He was smiling as he glanced over at me. "I've seen humans do this with their offspring. The children seem to enjoy it."

"They do." I said, letting out a sigh of relief.

"What's going on?" Sam asked as he slid around the corner on socked feet.

"Cas was just playing with Dean. Tossing him in the air." I said. "They're fine."

Sam nodded but still eyed Dean and Cas, making sure I was telling the truth. Satisfied, he left to continue his task.

The playpen was bright blue with a green, squishy bottom and white mesh around the sides. Dean hated it; but I think it was just being confined that made him shout and scream. Clearly, he was very frustrated. That is, until I put the toy sports car and blocks in there with him. He was sufficiently distracted; he didn't even look up when we carried the playpen into the library. Cas, Sam, and I dove right into research. Cas was looking further into binding spells, but Sam and I were looking for the specific curse that was put on Dean. Many cups of disgusting but much needed coffee later, I looked up to see Dean sound asleep. I felt like we hadn't made any headway that night, or the next day. The following night was no different; countless cups of coffee, countless dusty books, countless databases hacked and analyzed. Eventually, Cas' head dropped onto his book and he snapped awake before moving to his cot in the corner.

"That looks like a good idea." I said. "Do you want Dean and the pen in your room again tonight?"

Sam closed his book. "Yeah, don't worry. I'll get him."

"Okay. Good night Sam." I walked past him and squeezed his shoulder lightly before leaning over the pen and whispering a quick good night to the sleeping Dean. I fell asleep quickly once my head hit the pillow, but it felt like only a few minutes later when my bladder woke me. All those cups of coffee had somewhere to be, apparently. Everyone else had gone to bed already; I must have slept for a few hours.

Returning from the bathroom, I noticed the light in the kitchen was on. I went in to turn it off, but saw Sam seated at the table. His back was to me as I entered; I knocked at the stone doorframe so I wouldn't surprise the hunter.

"Sam?" I called softly, pulling my polka dot robe closer around me. The kitchen didn't hold the boiler's heat very well. The floor was freezing cold as I walked in thin socks to join Sam at the table. He turned to look at me as I drew near, but quickly looked away. His eyes were bloodshot and red.

The table held several empty bottles of beer and a nearly empty bottle of liquor. "Sam? Are you okay?" I asked. My hand lingered on his shoulder, trying to get him to look at me again. He turned his head away and let it hang over the small glass of liquor he was drinking. I sat next to him and pushed the beer bottles away.

"No. 'S my fault." He said softly. He didn't look up from the glass.

"What's your fault?" I asked.

"Dean. Baby Dean, tiny Dean, scream-y Dean." He chuckled and took another swig from his glass. "I shouldn't a suggested splitting up."

It took me a minute to follow his logic. "When you were investigating the house in Centerville?"

"'e wanted to go upstairs 'n look but I 'as sure it 'as in the basement." He put his glass down with a soft thud. "'s always the basement."

"Sam, isn't that how you guys look through places? It's normal. It's not your fault." I said.

"But 'e got taken." Sam turned to look at me. His eyes were still red but I noticed this time around that his cheeks were flushed. "Door slammed 'n I couldn't get in. 'e yelled for me but I couldn't save 'im, Ali. The window shattered 'n I heard 'im hit the floor 'n then the door opened 'n 'e was gone. Jus gone. Poof." Sam's eyes got very wide when he said 'poof'. He downed the rest of his glass and I grabbed the bottle before he could refill the glass. He frowned at me.

"You don't need this, Sam." I said, setting it down behind me. "It wasn't your fault that the Wendigo took Dean."

"But I couldn't save 'im, Ali. You did." I saw his eyes get glossy and he turned away, looking into his empty glass. "If you 'adn't come in me 'n Cas wouldn't a found 'im."

"Sam, we found him. He's okay. He's in one piece. He's safe. That's what matters." I said, resting my hand on his shoulder. "We'll find a way to change him back."

"What if we don't?" Sam asked, looking at me.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Ali… I don't know if I can raise Dean like 'e raised me." Sam let a tear slide down his cheek before wiping it away and looking anywhere but at me. "Honestly, this is more scary than most of the hunts we've been on."

"Sam, we'll find a way. You're overthinking this."

"Dean's my big brother. I'm basically useless without 'im. When 'e went to Hell… I fell apart, Ali. I lost myself in hunting and drowned my sorrows in blood. I can't be the big brother. I can't. Er, what if 'e doesn't remember me as 'e grows up and thinks I'm 'is dad?" Sam said, his voice thick with anxiety. I saw his eyes focus on something far away. "What if I can't take care of 'im and something 'appens?"

"Sam-" I was starting to feel my stomach tense up and the hairs on my arms raise. Sam hadn't scared the shit out of me in a long time, but I was approaching my limit now. I knew Dean had been to Hell, they'd told me that much, but they failed to mention what Sam did in the meantime. And his eyes were that of a man possessed by anger and guilt and pain. I didn't know what to do.

"I gotta change like a million diapers and find schools and make healthy food and day care and-" Sam said.

I slapped him. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to bring him back to reality. He held his cheek and looked at me with clear eyes, blinking a few times. I was relieved to see sanity again. "Sam, calm down. You're overthinking this."

"I can't do this." He said, looking back to his empty glass.

I cupped his other cheek and turned his head, forcing him to look at me. His eyes were still bloodshot. "Sam, Dean's not gone, I'm not going anywhere, and Cas isn't going to abandon us. You aren't in this alone. Look, it's only been a few days since we started looking for answers. Don't give up on us yet."

Sam let one shaky breath out. "Yeah. Yeah."

I let go of his cheek and stood. "Ready for bed?"

"Well, you aren't gonna let me drink, so yeah. Bossy." I helped Sam back to his room and sat him on his bed. Dean was still sound asleep in the playpen; at least he slept through the night. I left and returned with a glass of water and both a strong dose of sodium bicarb tablets and several aspirin. Sam was already asleep when I entered, so I set my load on the nightstand and pulled the sheets over him. I went back to bed, glad that he hadn't drunk himself into alcohol poisoning.

 **A/N: This is your review reminder, thanks!**


	13. A Day at the Office

**A/N: Vivi here! Glad to see that you guys are enjoying the ride. Let me know what you think!**

The next morning, I could hear Sam groan as Dean woke up and yelled to be released. I left the kitchen and made my way to Sam's room. When I knocked, Dean quieted down for just a second before starting up again with a bit less vigor.

"Help." Sam said weakly. I pushed the door open in alarm and saw Sam sitting up, holding his head. "Make him stop."

Relieved that there wasn't an emergency, I walked over to the playpen. I picked Dean up and he quieted down, eager to get breakfast. "Sam, I put some water and meds on your nightstand. You might want to go back to sleep for a while after you take those." I said. "That looks like a nasty hangover."

"Thanks." He said. I left and closed the door. Dean's face seemed unusually red; I put my hand to his forehead. Sure enough, he had a low fever. Once in the kitchen, I gave him plenty of fluids to drink with his breakfast. I thought about asking Sam to take him to the doctor later today, or tomorrow when he felt better.

A few hours later, Sam emerged. He didn't seem to have recovered fully, but he accepted the eggs and bacon I offered. Cas had already resumed his research from the day before and was absently monitoring Dean as he played with the toy car on the library floor. I hadn't taken the playpen when I got him this morning and I hadn't wanted to wake Sam again. Cas had volunteered to watch Dean when I offered to make breakfast.

Soon, we were all back into the swing of research and Dean was once again confined to the playpen. I'd given him a pad of paper and a pencil with the car today. We spent most of the day quietly reading the old archives or searching for leads online.

"I may have found something." Sam said suddenly, breaking the rigid silence. It was already late into the evening; I'd just finished my third cup of coffee.

"Please, do share." I said, rubbing my eyes.

He turned the book around to reveal the classic Men of Letters chicken scratch, scrawled in tiny letters around strange symbols and a rough drawing of an evil looking face. "So get this: I found a curse that changes adults into their most vulnerable form. It usually makes the victim either really old or really young, apparently. Only highly trained witches can make the curse work though." He turned the book back and read a little further, frowning. "The curse can only be broken by the witch that did it, by death of the victim, or by the ground up tooth of a griffin and a trillium flower root." Sam sat back in his chair and sighed. "Trilliums are pretty scarce these days. And are griffins even real?" I shrugged and Cas didn't look up from his book, which wasn't a good sign. "So I guess we have to find the witch."

"How do you usually find witches?" I asked.

"Follow the trail of weird things. The only problem is that I haven't been able to find anything weird happening in Centerville or the surrounding area besides the disappearances." Sam crossed his arms. "I think I need to go back to the mine and have a better look around. Cas, you coming?"

Cas looked up rather reluctantly from his book. "Yes." He didn't seem thrilled about the idea.

"Great." Sam said, standing.

"Wait, are we leaving now?" I asked. I was surprised that Sam seemed so eager to leave so late at night.

"No, me and Cas are leaving in the morning. Ali, I need you to stay here with Dean." Sam said.

"I can help." I said. "I can fit into places you guys can't, remember?"

"But I need someone I trust to watch Dean." Sam said. "That's the best way for you to help."

I sighed and scratched my head. "Fine." Then I remembered Dean's low fever from this morning. It hadn't persisted past lunch, but I was still concerned. "I think Dean needs to go to the doctor. His nose has been running and he had a fever today."

"Can you take him tomorrow?" Sam asked.

"I guess, yeah. You guys are going to have to let me drive one of the cars though." I said. I hadn't driven a car since moving in.

"I'll leave you the keys to the green one." Sam said.

"But that's a two seater." I said. "Where am I going to put the car seat?"

"Just put it in the front seat."

The next morning, Sam and Cas left early and it was few hours before I packed Dean up to go to the urgent care center I found online. It was the closest one I could find, but it was still an hour away.

That little nose was running more today and his fever seemed a little higher. I was strongly against putting Dean's car seat in the front seat, but with only two seater cars available to me, I had little choice. I threw the flowered duffel bag slash diaper bag on the seat between us and headed uptown.

The woman at the desk was either very busy or very short-tempered. With Dean Smith checked in I waited amongst the other patients and gave Dean goldfish crackers to keep him quiet. There was so much sneezing and scratching and moaning in that room that by the time Dean was called back, I was sure I was going to get sick too.

"Let's get his weight and height." The rather attractive, younger nurse didn't look up from the tablet she held as I released Dean and stood him on the scale. He held still while the nurse did her thing and followed her to the exam room with me close behind. I could tell he was already smitten. Unfortunately, he didn't know how they took temperatures for kids under two. I held him down and the nurse got the temperature. She left before his temper tantrum was in full swing. There were times when I wasn't sure if the old Dean was still home, but in that moment I had no doubt that he was. He was cursing at me in baby language and stomping his feet. Occasionally, a perfectly formed curse word would make it out and his fervor would be renewed. Finally, I had to threaten to strap him back in the car seat. He settled down after that, but still muttered to himself.

It was at least half an hour before the doctor came in. "I'm Dr. Fisher." He said quickly, taking a seat at the desk without pausing to shake my hand or hear my reply. "This is Dean?"

"Yes." I said shortly.

"Are you Mom?" He asked. He still hadn't looked at me.

"Yes."

"So what brings him in today?"

"His nose has been running for a few days and he got a fever yesterday. It's higher today." I said. "It's probably been a full week of runny noses." I tried to mentally count back to the day that Dean was turned. He'd been in fifty degree weather for at least two days when I reached him.

"Any allergies?" He asked.

"Not that I know of." I said. I took my phone out and texted Sam, just to be sure.

"Let's take a look at him." The doctor checked his ears, nose, throat, and tummy before listening to his lungs and heart. I tensed up as he put the stethoscope down Dean's shirt, fearing that the doctor would see his tattoo and call Child Protective Services on me. The doctor didn't notice anything out of place with this heart; I sighed quietly in relief. "Looks like a pretty severe cold. Lots of post nasal drainage. I don't want the infection to spread from his head. We have a nice one time antibiotic that will take care of this, if you're okay with an intramuscular administration." The doctor looked at me for the first time. His hair was brown but graying around his ears. There was a small scar just to the right of his right eye.

"Yeah, that sounds fine. What is the medication, exactly?" I asked.

"Penicillin." He said flatly.

"What kind of penicillin?" I asked.

"Don't worry about what kind. It's safe. I'll let the nurse know and he'll come by and then you can leave. Nice to meet you, Miss Smith." The doctor said before leaving.

"Rude." I said under my breath. Dean looked at me from the exam table. "That was terrible patient care." Dean shrugged. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. It was Sam.

'No drugs. Just cats. What did the doctor say?' I was about to give him a status report when the nurse, a different one from before, came in with a small tray of things.

'I'll call you in a few minutes.' I replied before focusing on the task at hand. Dean hadn't been interested after seeing that it wasn't the same nurse and resumed playing with the toy car that I'd given him to pass the time. Before he knew what was happening, I'd scooped him up and was holding down his arms so that the nurse could give him the shot of antibiotics. He howled and begrudgingly took the lollipop the nurse handed to him afterward. We left the exam room after I convinced Dean to hold still in the car seat. The lady at the desk was just as short tempered as before and got on my nerves as I paid for our appointment with Sam's credit card.

I was halfway to the car when I heard the sound of my phone ringing. Sam must have gotten tired of waiting for my call. I reached into my pocket and answered the phone.

"Hel-" Something thick slapped over my mouth and nearly dropped Dean's carseat as I struggled against it. I gasped and a rancid, chemical smell filled my mouth and nose. Little black dots filled my vision and all I could think was 'Oh shit, I'm going to drop Dean'.

The world was slowly twisting when I opened my eyes. It was dark and cold. A musty smell hung in the air, but there was a hint of something sharper too. Floor cleaner, maybe? The ringing in my ears was making it hard to concentrate.

Slowly, my eyes adjusted. I saw that I was in a large room with a cement floor and several cement pillars. I was tied to one of them, my arms behind my back and around the cold pillar. I sat facing a cement wall lined with shelves upon shelves of medical supplies. There were no windows, but the room was so large that it must have been a basement, or something subterranean.

"Cas, someone kidnapped me. I don't know where Dean is. They used chloroform, I think, and I'm in a basement somewhere with a bunch of medical stuff. I'm tied to a pillar. We were in the Hometown Urgent Care parking lot at like nine fifteen when we got jumped." I said softly, hoping Cas had his ears on.

As the ringing in my ears died down, I could hear someone open a door. I let my head fall back into the position I had woken up in and tried to play unconscious.

"I've got her right here, ma'am." A familiar voice said. He sounded pleased. "She was on the phone when I got her, so I'm not sure…"

I heard a deep, angry voice come through a phone speaker but couldn't make out what it was saying. "Yes, ma'am. You dislike finding new ones very much. I apologize for taking so long to locate her." The voice replied in a more threatening tone. "No damage was done by me. The Wendigoes you suggested did cut the shoulder, but it's nearly healed now." A reply from the other end. "I'll take down the warding right away, ma'am. You'll have no problem getting in." The man paused to hear from his supposed superior once again. "I understand, ma'am. I'll keep the warding intact until you've finished your urgent business elsewhere. I understand that taking it down will prove problematic at this time." The man hung up and sighed heavily. I heard him walk over and stand in front of me.

"Hey, get up." He lightly kicked my shoe. I didn't flinch or respond. "Hey, come on." Again, he kicked me. "No wonder they outlawed that stuff." The man left. I heard a door open and close and waited through several minutes of tense silence before lifting my head again.

I looked around for the car seat and found only shelves upon shelves of equipment. I also found a small camera pointed directly at me. The door opened and closed again shortly after my discovery. I played dead again.

"I saw you on that camera." Dr. Fisher said, kicking my foot much harder this time. "I wasn't sure if you moved the first time, but this time I saw it. I know you're awake."

I lifted my head to look at him. It was difficult; my muscles didn't want to respond and the concrete pillar kept my head from easily looking up. "Who are you really?" I asked with venom in my voice. "There's no way you're a real doctor."

"I really am Allen Fisher." He man said. "But no, I'm not a doctor."

"What did that guy put in Dean?" I asked. Hiding the fear in my voice was difficult; hiding the fear in my face was even harder.

"Saline. I don't want to kill the kid. I just want him out of the way. Do you know what happens to things that kill a Winchester? The other Winchester." The man threw his head back and laughed. "I don't need a Winchester chasing me down. And my boss can handle the other one. She had intended for the Wendigoes we captured to rip him apart, but apparently they like to keep their prey. I changed him into a bite sized meal to entice them, but he got away before they returned from scoping you and your friends out at your campsite. I must admit, I was surprised you knew to use Anasazi symbols."

"How did you know we used the symbols?" I asked, my eyes narrowing.

"Well, when the big scaries didn't bring you back to the mine, I sought them out. I found the three of you curled up, snoozing in that Anasazi circle. Just to be safe, I put a hex bag that I could track in your duffel before allowing the beasts to… antagonize you a bit."

"A hex bag?" I whispered. Oh, why hadn't I emptied out my duffel before using it as a diaper bag?

"Where's Dean?" I asked, taking another look around.

"Left him in that parking lot but some lady brought him back to the clinic kicking and screaming a few minutes later and they called CPS. I slipped him a heavy dose of anti-histamines to knock him out. I have a coworker coming in a CPS uniform to take him so we don't blow our cover. My boss wants him all to herself, you see." The man said. He put his hands in his pockets. "But never mind the Winchesters. Let's talk about you. Allison Ligan."

"What about me?" I spat. He started to circle me. I pulled hard at the restraints, but they were medical grade hand restraints used for violent patients. It would take someone much stronger than me to snap these.

"You are a very hard woman to find. Did you know that?" He stopped circling and knelt off to my side so I couldn't kick him. The man lifted my shirt to reveal my tattoos. I squirmed but couldn't get away from his prying fingers. "But of course you did. It took some fancy footwork to get you here, Allison. If not for that hex bag, I'd have never found my prize."

Cas, please hurry. I think I'm in the basement of the clinic. I prayed hard. My hands were starting to sweat, my heart pounded in my chest.

The man stood and resumed circling me. "When that demon appeared in front of me, I nearly shit my pants. That's a bad gal, you see. And the vessel she showed up in was already almost torn apart. Blisters and burns everywhere. It's not often they find strong vessels, you see. So she offers me something I can't resist in exchange for finding you. Says she can't find you even with her power." The man laughed and kicked my shoe again. I winced and pulled my knees up to my chest. "A very powerful demon. Can't find her own vessel and misses you so dearly that she offers me a place of power beside her once you've been reclaimed. Now, as a minor league witch, I can't turn her down. One, she'd have killed me on the spot. Two, who doesn't want that kind of power?"

The demon. He was holding me for the demon who killed my family. I shuddered at the thought of that thing leaking back into my eyes and my fingers and my toes, shoving me deep into the darkness of my own subconscious. "Do you even know what you're messing with?" I asked. "That demon killed my entire family and only left me because it thought an angel was going to kill it. What do you think it'll do to you once it's back in the most stable vessel it's had?"

The man's smile faltered for just a moment before he smiled arrogantly. "We made a deal already. I'll have a place of power beside her once she takes your body back."

"If you let me go now, you'll live. No Winchester will kill you, no angel will smite you, and I won't have to feel your neck snap as a demon takes me over." I warned sharply. "If it takes me back, there's no telling what will happen."

"I don't need to listen to you. You're just a vessel." He kicked my foot yet again. "Now keep quiet. We're waiting on CPS man and we can't have you making a ruckus down here. I will knock you out again if I need to."

I pressed my lips together and glared at Fisher.

"That's a good girl. Won't be more than a few hours until she comes. She had some previous engagements to attend to before our appointment. I have several more patients to see before my stint as a replacement doc is up. I'll be checking in every now and again." He left and I heard the door open and close.

Dean was going to be put in the hands of my demon. I closed my eyes and let my head rest against the pillar. This witch was even less human than I'd thought. My mind began racing, trying to come up with a way to escape before the demon arrived. I looked around yet again. One of the medical shelves was close enough for me to hook my foot around if I stretched far enough. I would probably have to draw blood; the pillar would cut into my arms as I reached. Quickly, I pulled the heavy rack closer to me, spilling only a little of myself on the pillar. There was just enough light in the room for me to read the small labels on the shelves. Gauze of many different sizes, different types of tape, fracture padding…

"Yes." I said softly. The third shelf up read 'scalpel supplies'. It took a few tries, but I knocked down a yellow carton and hundreds of scalpel blades and handles covered the floor around me. I kicked several behind me and felt around to see if any got within reach.

One had. I picked it up and unwrapped it, careful not to cut myself. The blade would be incredibly sharp; I began sawing through the restraint.

I heard the door open just as I snapped through the last of the plastic holding me against the pillar. Before Fisher could see me, I hid behind a shelf and cut the last few pieces off of my wrists.

"What the hell, Ligan? I heard a loud noise and I thought I told you-" He said, finding my mess of scalpel parts on the floor. "Oh, Allison?" He called.

Bad man, bad man, bad man… I was starting to panic again. My breath was coming in silent gasps. Sweat poured from my face as I peered through the shelves at the man.

"Come on out, honey." He called. I heard him mumble something under his breath before he spoke aloud again. "Let me see you. Come out, Allison."

Bad man, bad man! I thought again. Cas, please hurry back. There's this guy, Fisher-

"Allison, come out. I need your help." Someone said.

I blinked hard. For the life of me, I couldn't remember where I was. I couldn't remember why I was here. There was only one thought that made any sense in my head. Something like 'bad man' was echoing through my brain.

 **A/N: Leave me questions or comments and I'll try to clear up any muddy parts in the upcoming chapters. Thanks!**


	14. Blank Space

**A/N: Vivi here! Welcome back to Internal Medicine. I hope you enjoy the newest chapter, Blank Space**!

"Where are you?" A man was moving around this place, filled with shelves, in the dark. I figured that he was the bad man. I assumed that I needed to get as far away from him as possible. But where was Dean? I remembered taking him to the doctor, but the last thing I remembered was the annoying lady handing Sam's credit card back to me. "Allison, please. Stop playing games."

The man was now very close to me, just a few rows away. I looked around through the shelves and walked away from his voice. A set of concrete stairs came into view. Without hesitation, I sprinted silently to them.

"Come out come out wherever you are." The man called. I climbed the stairs easily, but couldn't stop the door handle from making a soft click when I opened it. "Wait, stop." The man said sternly. He started saying words I couldn't understand, so I shut the door behind me and locked it. I was in a small, cluttered office. There were cork boards on the wall covered with diagrams and phone numbers. It looked like a typical doctor's office.

Soon, I found my way to the back door of the administration office, where the annoying receptionist was checking in another patient. Something made me think that Dean might be in there. I glanced in and saw that the room was bigger than it appeared from the little glass window in the waiting room. Silently, I rounded the corner and found a little area with a table and chairs and a microwave. Dean was in his car seat, sound asleep on the table. I picked him up out of the seat and looked around for a getaway plan. My keys and duffel were next to the car seat; I threw the keys in my pocket and put the duffel over my left shoulder. The pain was bearable now; the claw marks were almost healed. I looked at the clock on the wall; four hours had passed since Dean's appointment.

I felt my face go pale. He should have woken up when I picked him up. Why wouldn't he wake up? He was still warm and I could feel his pulse as I held his neck steady against my chest; I knew I had time to deal with his lack of consciousness later.

I heard the receptionist stand. Immediately, I jogged down a back hallway that led away from the table and chairs. Down a second hallway, I saw a door with light shining through it. I shoved the heavy metal door open and ran out into the cool air. I was really getting tired of these cold April days.

The parking lot at the side of the building was nearly empty. I took a moment to cover Dean in my sweater, both for protection against the cold and for concealment from curious eyes. Hugging the side of the building, I glanced around the front and saw that my car was still there. A few more cars had joined it since I last saw the lot.

"Seriously?" My stomach fell when I saw that all of the tires on my car had been slashed. Scanning the area, I wondered briefly about what had happened between us leaving the appointment and me coming to between shelves of equipment downstairs. I wasn't sure if I had another breakdown and flipped out or if something darker was afoot. Either way, it was best for me to leave the area with Dean in hand. They might call the police and find the mass murderer from Illinois in their clinic.

The coast was mostly clear. Only one jogger running down the sidewalk drew my attention. I power walked to the sidewalk and steamed away from the building, hoping that by not running I wouldn't be labeled suspicious.

Once the clinic was out of view, I dug through my duffel to find my cell phone. In amongst the diapers, a thick wad of bandages emerged and dropped to the ground. I picked it up, but hesitated when something in the wad crinkled. Letting the bundle unroll, I saw what had made the sound.

A small burlap bag with a symbol on the front rolled out onto the sidewalk. I picked it up and looked it over. Maybe one of the guys had put it in my bag as warding or for good luck or something. I frowned. Just to be safe, I took my pendant off and wrapped it around the bag several times, securing it tightly. Once I'd found my phone, I zipped the bag up and thought no more of it. Sam's number was already on speed dial. He'd probably want to know what had just happened.

The phone only rang once before he answered. "Ali?"

"Hi Sam." I said, slightly alarmed by the urgency in his voice. "Is something wrong?"

"Wha- you tell me. Where are you?" He asked.

"I'm about three blocks away from the urgent care where I took Dean. Sam, why do you sound like something bad just happened?" I looked around me to make sure I wasn't being followed before crossing the street and making my way to the nearest grocery store where I could pretend to shop until I figured something out.

"You prayed to Cas like three times a couple hours ago. Then they stopped coming in. What's going on, Ali?" Sam asked. "We're already almost to the clinic. Maybe twenty minutes out."

I felt my hands start to sweat and my heart begin pounding as I entered the grocery store. "Sam, I don't remember praying to Cas at all. There's like a four hour window that's just gone. I remember checking out at the clinic and then I woke up in the basement with some guy calling my name. I found Dean in their office and took off." I hushed my voice as an elderly man walked past. "Someone slashed my tires. Sorry, Sam."

"Ali, screw the car. Are you okay? Is Dean okay?" I paused in an aisle lined with canned foods and took stock of myself and Dean. I was slowly bleeding; both of my forearms had mirror image cuts across them. I touched Dean's face and patted gently, speaking softly to try and wake him. No luck. At least he was breathing regularly.

"I have some weird cuts on my arms that I don't remember getting and Dean won't wake up. We're at that fancy grocery store on Main." I said, my voice hushed. "Sam, I found a little burlap bag in my duffel after I got away. Do you know where it came from?" I asked nervously. "Cuz it's freaking me out a little."

"Allison, drop that thing where you are and get away from it. Burn it if you can. It's a hex bag, witches use them to manipulate people." Sam said. I pulled the bag out and shoved it far behind a bunch of canned spinach, not bothering to remove my pendant beforehand.

"I hid it, I don't have a light." We were nearly to the exit when I heard sirens in the distance. Someone must have called the police when they found the doctor locked in the basement and a lack of Dean. I turned around and retreated to the cleaning aisle. "Sam, the police are at the clinic. How soon can you be here to get me the hell out of this nightmare?"

"Ten minutes. Just lay low until we get there, okay?"

"Those police are going to search the area. They'll find me here." I said. Raking my brain, I thought of one way I might avoid being found. "Call me when you get here and let me know if the coast is clear."

"Stay safe, Ali." Sam hung up and I made my way to the front desk.

"Hi." I said, putting on my best fake smile. "Is there anywhere I could go for a few minutes that's private?"

The clerk on duty was a pimple ridden teenage boy with a glassy stare. "Uh, like where?"

I rolled my eyes. "Like a lactation room?"

The boy's eyes got very wide and his pasty white face flushed. He struggled to make eye contact and seemed unable to speak.

"Look, sweetie. It's a natural thing. And I'm not gonna sugar coat it: the girls get painful when baby hasn't eaten for a while. So unless you want me to speak to a manager, please point me in the right direction." The bitchface had made another appearance and much to my relief, it had done its job. The boy pointed towards the back of the store. "Thanks, hun."

The store actually had a nice lactation room. It was tucked away, further down the hall than the restrooms. Several comfy chairs were lined up against a colorful wall with curtains between each chair that provided some privacy. When I entered, several of the curtains were draw and I could hear happy baby sounds every now and then. I scurried over to an empty chair as far away from the door as possible and pulled the curtain.

The chair was very comfortable. I settled Dean across my lap and tried again to wake him. This time when I touched his face, his head turned slightly and he breathed in a little deeper than before. What a relief. He would wake up soon. They probably gave him a heavy dose of antihistamines. Even I was knocked out by those suckers.

A few minutes later, I heard heavy footsteps and commanding voices. Someone was searching the restrooms. The door to the lactation room opened a few seconds later and a female voice broke the pleasant melody of the elevator music that played from overhead speakers.

"Everyone come on out. I need to see some IDs." The woman said.

I heard several groans and a few gasps. Some babies started to scream. Pretty soon one mother emerged and spoke to the woman with a crying infant in her arms. "What's this about?" She asked, clearly angry.

"We've got a fugitive on the loose who assaulted a man down the road about twenty minutes ago. She may have kidnapped a child as well." The officer said. "Long brown hair, athletic build, green duffel bag, probably carrying a sleeping child."

"Look, lady, all the women in this room have been here for a while now. Most of us have brown hair and athletic builds. Most of us will be carrying sleepy children. If someone had tried to hide in here, we'd all have heard." The mother said. Several others from behind closed curtains agreed with her. "Please let us finish feeding our children in peace."

The officer was quiet for a moment. "At least slip your IDs under the curtains." The women grumbled but complied. I dug around for my wallet and produced one of my fake IDs. Alberta Montgomery was the name. The picture had been altered by Sam himself to show me with lighter, much shorter hair, and heavy makeup. It was perfect for both disguises and deception when it came to avoiding the law. I slipped mine under the curtain, pretending to calm down a fussy child. Soon, my ID was returned to my side of the curtain and I was safe. The officer left.

Eventually, my phone rang and I answered it quickly, not wanting to disturb the women who seemed to be having trouble getting their babies to comply after the interruption. "Sam?" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down.

I heard him sigh in relief. "Ali. There are police everywhere, where are you?"

"I'm almost done nursing him, hun." I said casually. "I'll be out in just a minute."

"You're doing what?" Sam's voice went up an octave.

"Are there a lot of people in line?" I asked. "Or are they gone?"

He hesitated. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head. "Got it. Uh, the police are still scanning the aisles. Have they seen you yet?"

"Oh, no dear, there are curtains. It's actually a really nice space. Let me know when the lines go down, okay? You can just text me." I said softly.

"Good. Okay. Me and Cas are in the parking lot. I'll text you when the coast is clear."

"Thanks, hun. See you in a bit." I hung up the phone and tucked it away in my duffel. Then I decided that the duffel was too dangerous to walk out with. I pulled my keys and wallet from it, stuffing them into my pockets. The rest of the things in the bag like diapers, wipes, baggies of cereal, and toys could be left behind. I did, however, remove the little black sports car that Dean had grown fond of before tucking the bag behind the chair and out of sight. The car went right into my pocket. I waited anxiously for Sam's text.

 **A/N: Review please!**


	15. Recap

A/N: Vivi here! Let's get right back into the swing of things, here's Recap.

Several women had already left the room before I got Sam's text. I stood and tucked Dean into my sweater again. The walk out was filled with adrenaline; it was hard pretending to act natural, but most people saw the sleeping infant in my arms and opted not to bother me.

I had never been more relieved to sit down on those pristine leather seats. I was breathing hard after having jogged across the parking lot to where the Impala was parked.

"Get me home." I said, slamming the door.

"Are you hurt?" Cas asked. Sam had already begun driving away. Blue and red lights were flashing further down the shopping plaza; we weren't in the clear yet.

"I don't know, Cas. I can't seem to remember the past few hours. My arms are bleeding. I found a hex bag in my duffel…" I trailed off. "I wish I knew what was going on."

"Me too." Sam said.

"Allison, who is Fisher?" Cas asked.

"Fisher?" I asked, my eyebrows knit in confusion. "He was the doctor that saw Dean today. Why do you ask?"

"You prayed about a man named Fisher but the prayer wasn't finished. Do you remember what you were going to say about him?" Cas asked.

"No… I don't remember praying about Fisher." I said. "What happened to me?"

"We'll figure it out, Ali." Sam said.

After a few minutes, Cas spoke up again. "Allison, what did you mean by nursing Dean? Was he hurt?"

"Well, I think they drugged him at the clinic, but I wasn't talking about that kind of nursing, Cas." I said, my cheeks flushing a bit.

"I don't understand." Cas said, glancing over his shoulder at me.

"Breastfeeding." Sam said without looking away from the road.

Cas looked back to me with intense discomfort on his face. My blush darkened to match his. "I didn't actually, Cas. I was trying to get away from the cops and the lactation room was the only place they couldn't easily find me."

"So you didn't…"

"No, I didn't. Let's just forget that happened, okay?" I said. "He'll wake up soon, I hope."

"You hope?" Sam said.

"I don't know what they did, okay? I don't remember."

"Why don't you remember?" Sam asked. It wasn't a jab; he sounded genuinely curious.

"Maybe it has something to do with that hex bag." I said.

"If we could see the contents, maybe we could get some answers." Cas offered. "You didn't burn it, correct?"

"No, I didn't have a lighter. I put it behind the spinach cans in that grocery store. I wrapped my pendant around it too, just in case something was trying to find it." I said. In that moment, I felt my tattoo pull and heat up. "Speaking of which, someone is trying to find me right now."

"Really?" Sam asked, glancing at me in the rear view mirror. "Maybe the witch that got Dean is behind this. Something tried to find you after the mine, right? That chanting we heard happened just before you felt it, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it did. But how could the witch have known where to find us?" I asked. "We're all warded, the bunker is warded, the car is warded. How could it have tracked us here?"

There was silence in the car. One long, pensive car ride later, we pulled into the garage. Cas and I emerged, but Sam did not.

"I'm going to get that hex bag, guys. It's our only lead; we can't lose it." Sam said.

"What about the police? Or the people at the clinic?" I asked, slightly irritated that he wanted to jump right back into the fray we'd only just escaped. This dude had some kind of complex.

"They aren't looking for me, Ali. Just stay here and figure out how to wake Dean up." With that, he took off in the Impala.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried not to let the angry words escape my mouth. I looked down at Dean and frowned. "Cas, take Dean, would you? I'm bleeding all over him." I'd only just realized that the little red flannel shirt I'd put him in that morning wasn't supposed to be quite that red. Cas took him gingerly and gave me a once over.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. From his body language, I could tell he was nervous.

"I'm fine, Cas. I just need to wrap these cuts up." I made my way to the bathroom and washed my arms before wrapping them in gauze in the library. Cas was seated at one of the tables, leaning over a book, still holding Dean. Dean was suspiciously motionless. "Did you try to wake him up?" I asked.

"Yes." Cas said.

"Let me try." I said, taking the infant from my friend. Taking care to hold his neck steady, I bounced around the library gently and called his name, begged him to wake up. I patted his back and his cheek and eventually got a small moan. It was music to my ears. A few minutes of coaxing later, his eyes slid open a little and he pouted. I could tell he was struggling to wake up. "Dean, you in there?" I moved him so that we were face to face. He looked me dead in the eye and stuck his tongue out at me. "There we go."

"Is he awake?" Cas asked, coming to stand behind me.

"Kinda. He's coming around, but he's still really drowsy." I said.

"I'm relieved to hear that. May I hold him?" Cas asked.

"Of course, Cas." I delivered Dean, who had fallen asleep again, into Cas' waiting arms. "You haven't really asked to hold him before. I thought you were scared you'd break him. Why the change?"

Cas hesitated. "Sam told me I'm not supposed to mention it."

Bubbling hot anger welled up in me again. What was with these Winchesters and their secrets? "Oh hell no, Cas. No secrets, remember? We had a deal."

"But he said it wasn't polite." Cas said. Somehow, I'd confused him.

"Sam said what isn't polite?" My arms crossed over my chest and the bitchface made an appearance.

"Commenting on your body odor." Cas said.

My anger fizzled out and my arms fell from their positions. I couldn't stop my eyes from rolling. "Cas, that's not a secret. If I stink, just tell me."

"You stink, Allison." Cas said.

"Well, I've been watching Dean for the past few days and haven't even thought about showering. So you want to watch him while I clean up, right? That's why you wanted to hold him?" I asked, irritation still evident in my tone.

"Yes."

I sighed and tried to ignore my own stench, which I was now very aware of. "Okay then."

When I returned from my rather lengthy shower, I found Dean asleep on Cas' chest. Cas had his legs up on another chair and seemed to be reading a book that rested on the table beside him. Upon closer inspection, however, Cas too was asleep. It was only about seven in the evening, but I decided against waking him. No one had been sleeping very well lately.

With nothing to do until Sam returned from his trip to and from the grocery store, I sat down at the kitchen table and decided to take stock of what had happened to bring us to this point. The thought of the task overwhelmed me a little, so I grabbed a piece of paper and pen to take notes.

"From the beginning, now, Ali." I said to myself, trying to clear my head.

Nearly six months ago, I was possessed. The demon killed my entire family. For the first time, I decided to write all of them down. Four grandparents, both sets of parents and step-parents. My younger sister, all fifteen of my cousins, and all five of my aunts and uncles. My son. And my friends, just the closest ones: Basil, Issac, Katie, and Mica. The most painful part of writing down each name was trying not to remember how the demon killed each one. The process gave me a headache.

One calming cup of tea later, I returned to my pad of paper and turned a new page. After that, Cas had saved me from the demon and the police and brought me to the bunker. He hadn't known that not all of the demon had left my body. The Winchesters took me in and for months they tip-toed around their own home trying not to set me off. Then Cas and I were attacked by demons at the market. A while later, Cas came bleeding and broken to the bunker while the guys were away and I sewed him up with shaking hands. The demon convinced me to run out of the bunker afterwards, with no shoes, for fifteen miles. The guys found me and I was in a hospital and Dean figured out I had a demon. I went through an exorcism. Sam and Dean went to investigate some disappearances in Centerville and Dean was kidnapped. Cas went to help and I stowed away in the backseat. I got a tattoo. We met up with Sam and went on a long hiking trip through the forests around Centerville to check out caves and mines. I met my first Wendigo, got clawed pretty badly, found Dean, and escaped as Sam and Cas killed both Wendigoes in the mine.

I shivered and felt my hand move up to my left shoulder. The claw marks were still red and puckered; they would probably scar.

After they killed the Wendigoes, they found a binding spell scrawled on the walls of the cave. We heard chanting and my tattoo prevented the witch from locating me. We escaped and made it back to the bunker with baby Dean. Sam, Dean, and I went shopping for baby stuff and got a playpen. Then came the seemingly endless research. Sam and Cas decided to go back to the mine and take another look at the spell. I took the sickly toddler to a clinic and blacked out after paying for the visit. Sam and Cas came back when I supposedly prayed to Cas. I had no recollection of praying. I remembered waking up in a basement to a man calling my name; I locked him that basement. Dean was in the office and I took him and ran. We hid in a grocery store from the police until Sam and Cas called the all-clear from the parking lot. That pretty much brought us up to the present.

"I wish I knew what had happened in those four hours." I said quietly to myself. "I probably flipped out and attacked the poor doctor. That's why they called the police." I let my face rest in my hands. "I'm wanted," I sang softly to the tune from my childhood. "Dead or alive."

Then I realized I really was wanted. My brain scrambled to recall the description the police officer had given in the lactation room. 'Long brown hair, athletic build, green duffel bag, probably carrying a sleeping child.' Something like that, I thought. I figured they had my fake name too: Allison Smith. And they knew her dear son Dean Smith.

"Well, no more public appearances from Dean with me around." I muttered. The duffel bag was gone, probably still concealed by the chair in the lactation room. There was nothing I could do about my body type in the short term future…

I could change my hair. The thought gave me no anxiety, as it had for the longest time. Hair this long was annoying and dangerous; it reached mid-back and made a perfect handhold for potential aggressors. Plus, if I shortened it, it might throw the police off for a while.

Of all the things hanging on the wall in Dean's room, I thought the buoy knife would work best. We didn't have any scissors sharp enough in the kitchen or the library, and the medical kit had tiny scissors that would dull quickly. Dean kept his weapons well primed for use. The buoy knife was razor sharp as I gave it the fingernail test. In the bathroom, I held my hair away from my body behind me, put the knife between me and the hair, took a deep breath, and pushed the knife into my hair.

A good eighteen inches of thick brown wavy hair came away with my hand as I put the knife on the sink. It was strange to look at. Must have taken me years to grow all that. Good riddance.

I checked my work in the mirror. The right side of my head sported hair just a little shorter than the left, but it was relatively even considering I took a buoy knife to it. A few unruly strands later, I had mostly evened out my new do. I hoped the guys didn't mind the huge hairball in the trash.


	16. To the Black Horse Motel

**A/N: Vivi here! Short chapter, sorry! The next one should be posted right after this one's up.**

Cas and Dean were still sleeping when Sam returned. I was busy trying to drown my racing mind a bit in a pot of homemade chili when he rounded the corner. His footsteps were so familiar to me that I had no doubt it was him. The sound of a gun cocking didn't even make me raise my head from stirring the soup.

"Hey Sam." I said, adding another can of tomato chunks to the concoction.

"Ali?" The gun was disarmed and put away. "What did you do to your hair?"

"I cut it. Thanks for noticing."

"It looks nice… Did Dean wake up?" His obvious and rather uncomfortable attempt to be polite after raising a gun to me was short lived.

"Yeah, but now he's asleep on Cas in the library." I said.

"Why is he sleeping on Cas?" Sam asked. He came up next to me and leaned on the counter.

"I needed to shower." I said bluntly. "Cas is asleep too, by the way. Try not to talk too loud."

"Huh. What's that?" Sam asked.

"My favorite chili. My mom taught me how to make it. I like to drown my sorrows in its spicy comfort now and then." I said. I offered him the spoon. "Taste test?" He accepted and approved. "It'll be done soon, but it'll be better tomorrow. The flavors need to steep for a while to reach their full potential."

"Awesome. Let me know when it's done. I'm gonna take this hex bag apart, but I'm gonna have to borrow Cas." Sam said.

"I'll put Dean in the pen."

The two were snoring now; Sam paused to take a picture with his phone as a devious grin spread across his face. Blackmail, I guessed. I took Dean carefully off of Cas' chest before letting Sam wake the sleeping angel. They worked in the library while Dean snoozed in the pen in the kitchen with me and my chili.

It didn't take long for the chili to finish cooking and the guys loved it. Dean tried it with sleepy eyes that got very wide as the spices hit. He had milk and some veggies for dinner instead. Sam seemed surprised by his newfound love of 'bunny food'.

The next day Sam and Cas seemed to have a few more answers. As I entered the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from my eyes, Sam was busy on his laptop and Dean was munching happily on cereal.

"Mornin' Sam." I said.

"Morning." Sam replied.

"You have breakfast?"

"What? Uh, no."

"Do you want breakfast?" I asked, pouring myself some cereal.

"No."

"You're not getting sick too, are you?" I joined them at the table and started eating.

"Let's hope not. Get this: Fisher isn't a doctor." He looked up from his laptop. "I got into the clinic's financial system and found his records. Yesterday was the first day he was at that clinic. The school he claimed to have graduated from closed two years before he claims to have graduated."

"So if he isn't a doctor, what was he doing prescribing drugs?" I asked between bites. Dean leaned over and stole a handful of my cereal. "Good morning, Dean." The shot they gave him at the clinic would hopefully kick in soon. His nose was still running day and night.

"Not sure he was. I found a few credit cards in his name. He was in Centerville when we were and there's a trail all the way from there to here starting the day after we got back. He's been hanging around town for the past few days."

"Do you think he's behind the hex bag?" I asked. "Has he been using it to track us?"

"That's the working theory." Sam shrugged. "I've been trying to track the rest of his records. The thing I can't figure out is how he got the hex bag into your stuff."

"Maybe he was stalking us in the forest, you know, before we found the mine. He could have come up behind me and just slipped the bag into my duffel."

"It's a possibility." Sam said.

"So what was in that hex bag, anyway?" I asked.

Sam frowned. "It was kind of thrown together. Like an amateur did it. But there was some pretty hard to come by pieces that no amateur could have gotten at. We're pretty sure Fisher made it. We're also pretty sure it was Fisher who captured the Wendigoes and tried to kill Dean."

"If he tried to kill Dean, why didn't he try to kill him at the clinic when I took him?" I asked.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe he did. Maybe it just didn't work."

"Do we have any ibuprofen?" Sam and I looked up to see Cas stumble into the kitchen, holding his head in one hand and the wall with the other.

"You okay, Cas?" Sam asked.

"It feels like my brain is going to leak out of my nose." Cas said, squinting in the kitchen light. He must have a pretty wicked headache to have photophobia as well.

"Do angels get headaches?" I asked as Cas was fetching the pill bottle and a glass of water.

"Well, the way he is now, probably. Normally? No." Sam replied. Cas took a handful of pills from the bottle and I made him give most of them back to me. I didn't want him to have to deal with a stomach ulcer as well as a migraine.

"Thank you." Cas said. I was surprised when he joined us at the table. He was still squinting.

"How long have you had a headache?" I asked.

"Since we left town yesterday." Cas said. "It wasn't as bad then. Sam, have you told her what we discovered?" Cas asked.

"Yeah, she's all caught up now." Sam had resumed work on his computer. Dean was trying to see what was on his screen and I noticed Cas duck his head and turn away.

"You okay, Cas?" I whispered to him.

"Dean's soul is very bright. It's difficult to take in at the moment." Cas said with pain in his voice.

"So even your angel vision is photophobic right now. That's fascinating." I longed to have my ophthalmoscope from school to look into his eyes and see what was going on in there, but it was probably long gone by now.

"Did you find a motive yet, Sam?" Cas asked.

"No."

"A motive for what exactly?" I asked.

"A motive behind the kidnappings that Fisher did. Those people from the town really did go missing and we found some of their… remains in the mine. Fisher didn't turn anyone else into a kid though." Sam sat back in his chair and watched Dean eat for a few seconds. "Why him?"

"And why did the Wendigoes kill all the prey they captured without consuming them?" Cas said. He still hung his head and avoided facing the light.

"There are just so many weird things about this case." Sam sighed.

"I wonder if Dean could tell us anything." I said, watching him pick up one piece of cereal at a time to add to the collection he already had in his mouth.

"Fisher's card was just used to pay for a room at the Black Horse Motel in town." Sam said suddenly. "Cas, you in?"

"In what?" He asked, obviously still in pain.

"We need to catch Fisher while we have the chance. Come on." Sam slammed his laptop shut and headed for the garage, with Cas a few steps behind him.

"I'll just wait here, then." I called after them. I listened until I heard the roar of the Impala.

Dean looked up at me and reached for my hair. He was smiling. "Why yes, I did cut my hair. Thanks for noticing." I couldn't help but smile. "So can you tell me anything about what happened to you?"

Dean frowned. Then I saw that old stubborn determination in his eyes. He growled, a truly adorable sound from such a little body, and made his fingers look like claws.

"Wendigo?" I asked. Dean nodded furiously and started wagging his hands and arms in front of him. He was babbling words I couldn't understand. "I… don't get this one." He grabbed the spoon from my cereal, launching a little milk and soggy cereal onto the table. Then he began hitting the spoon on the table and babbling.

Maybe Dean wasn't really with it the whole time. Sometimes he seemed to be in there and perfectly capable of understanding what was going on and then other times he'd scribble on the playpen or play with his toy car and make noises like a normal eighteen month old. I frowned. "Dean, are you in there?"

"Ya." He said. The toddler seemed offended.

"Oh. Sorry. So, something was hitting you?" I guessed blindly.

He shook his head and made a 'woo' sound that was drawn out.

"A ghost? The witch?" I asked. Dean nodded. "Yeah, the witch's name is Fisher. He was controlling the Wendigoes, we got that part."

Dean held his hands to the sides of his head and let his index fingers poke up.

"An animal?"

He bared his teeth and hissed at me.

"A cat? Did you see a cat?"

He moved his hands to cover his eyes and then returned them to his head. He did that a few more times before I guessed again.

Then it hit me. "A demon? Did you see a demon?" I asked.

Dean nodded.

"So the witch has demons working for it?"

Dean shook his head and put both hands on his hips. Then he pointed at something and started babbling at it. He did that a few times before I caught his drift. "The witch is working for a demon?"

Dean nodded.

Terror washed over me and I ran to the garage to see if the guys had left yet. The Impala was gone. I ran back to the kitchen and grabbed my phone.

Sam didn't answer his phone. When I called Cas, I heard his phone ring in the library. It was still plugged into the wall, under his cot.

"Dean, they're not answering. What if they walk into a trap?" I hugged myself and paced the kitchen, trying to think of what I could do. Well, duh. How could I have forgotten that Cas was an angel? "Hey Cas, it's Ali. Dean just told me that the witch is working for a demon. Watch your backs on this one. I have a bad feeling that you're going to walk into a trap." I sighed heavily. "I hope your ears are on, buddy."

"Li." Dean said from where he sat on the kitchen table.

I walked over slowly, weighed down with worry, to see what he needed. "Dean." He pointed to his bowl. There was no more cereal left. "Are you still hungry?" I asked, surprised. He'd eaten all of his and half of mine.

"Ya." He seemed to have forgotten about our conversation already. I reached down to pick up his bowl.

Dean sneezed half-chewed cereal and globs of green mucus all over himself and me. I closed my eyes and set the bowl back on the table. Deep breaths… Deep breaths…

He laughed. I opened my eyes and wiped some goo from my cheek. "We'll see how funny it is now that you have to take a bath." I said. His eyes got wide. "That's right. It may make both of us uncomfortable but you can't be covered in cereal and snot all day. Sam's not going to be back for a while."


	17. And Back Again

**A/N: Vivi here! As promised, the next chapter. Don't forget to review!**

Dean hated when I had to bathe him. I didn't much care for it either. It was weird; in those moments, I hoped that when he poofed back into adulthood his memories of this childhood did not.

I tried Sam's cell again about half an hour later, after Dean was clean and I was in the process of changing my clothes.

"Ali?" Sam answered after like six rings.

"Sam, hey." I almost fell over; I'd been trying to put my pants on and was half a leg in. "Dean was able to tell me some stuff."

"Yeah, Cas got it. So he thinks a demon is controlling a witch? Like, the demon is in the witch or the witch is working for the demon?" Sam asked. I held the phone between my shoulder and my ear to finish dressing.

"He just nodded when I guessed that the witch was working for a demon." I said. "I don't know about this, guys. It seems too easy, you know? Like why wouldn't Fisher use cash now that I've met him and know who he is? He has to know I've told you about it by now, right?"

"At this point I'll take any gift horse, no questions asked. Ali, Dean could be an adult again tonight." He sighed. "I miss my big brother."

I felt bad for not wanting them to go through with their plan. Without any concrete evidence suggesting that Dean was right, I had little choice but allow them to continue on. "Okay, but be careful. We don't know what you're walking into here."

"We'll be back in four hours, tops."

"Please just be careful."

The roar of the Impala's engine filled my ears just three hours later. I left Dean to play with his car in the playpen in the library and rushed to the garage.

The Impala looked awful. There were scratches all down the side, ruining the gorgeous black paint. There was blood spattered on the windows; the back windshield was cracked. The front end looked a little dented in and one light was missing a few pieces. My mouth hung wide open.

"Allison, help me with him." Cas was the one who emerged from the driver's side door. I ran to the passenger's side to see the unmoving form of Sam slumped against the window. We got him out; his arm was bleeding profusely and he was unresponsive.

"Library table." I said. Sam was a heavy guy and I was not. I was glad Cas was there to help. We got Sam belly up on one of the tables before Dean noticed our presence. He gasped and pounded on the edge of the pen as I did a quick once-over of his little brother.

"Am? Ammy? Li, up. Up." Dean said.

I looked at him. "Sorry, not now, Dean." He was quiet after that but sat down and fretted. "Cas, get the kit. Shallow stab wounds and lacerations to his right thigh, left abdomen… left arm. Blood loss… Cas how much do you think he lost?"

Cas returned with the extensive medical kit. "Two pints, perhaps. It didn't seem like much."

"Do you know how to take a blood pressure reading?" I asked.

"N-no." Cas answered.

"Here," I handed him a pile of gauze. "Stop the bleeding on his stomach and leg." I took Sam's blood pressure quickly and found it to be only slightly decreased. I was afraid it had fallen drastically as it would with severe blood loss. Sam did not need blood which was good since we didn't have any stored at the bunker and the hospital was an hour away.

"There's glass in his arm." Cas said.

"I saw that." I said. I put on a pair of gloves and opened a set of sterile forceps. Within seconds, I'd already administered some numbing agent to the cut on his arm. "How are those cuts, Cas?"

"Still bleeding, but not as heavily." He said. As he lifted the gauze pads from the cuts, I saw that the blood flowing from them was beginning to taper off. With another pad, I wiped the already spilt blood from his side. I had to wait at least a few minutes for the numbing agent to start to work. I didn't want an irate Winchester on my improvised operating table.

"Cas, hold him down." I said after waiting as long as I could bear. I wiped the excess blood from around his arm and tried to clear my line of vision to the glass I'd seen earlier.

"He's unconscious." Cas seemed confused and did not move from his position.

"If the glass is as deep as I think it is, he'll wake up as soon as I move it." Cas reluctantly moved to stand opposite me on the table, holding Sam's chest and right arm. "Brace yourself." I said. Carefully and gently, I spread the entry wound with one hand. I tried to keep as much control of that arm as possible; Cas was busy with the other one and his torso, so if Sam pulled too hard, the glass might cut him as I held it. Slowly, I gripped the shard in the forceps and tightened down on it.

"No!" Sam jerked to life and would have pulled the shard from my forceps had Cas not held his chest and arm down. He gasped at the pain. "Ah, no."

"Sam, you're back at the bunker." I said soothingly. "You have a piece of glass in your arm and I'm taking it out." Sam's eyes flitted around the room and squeezed shut a few times. "Sam?"

"He hit the ground hard." Cas said. "The motel was filled with demons. I couldn't see them as anything more than patrons and maids before they attacked."

"I'm gonna get the glass out, Sam. Just relax." I pulled the piece of glass from his arm as he thrashed and dropped it onto a paper towel. He squirmed and cried and shouted and swore as I pulled smaller pieces from his arm and rinsed out the smallest ones with lots of saline. The other cuts got the same saline treatment after Sam had calmed down a little. By the time all the glass and debris was out, he was covered in sweat and Cas and I were panting from holding him down.

"Stop. Stop, please." Sam, now thoroughly exhausted, still hadn't made direct eye contact with either Cas or I.

I pulled out a few suture packs and more numbing agent, which I administered immediately. "Sam." I called, trying to get him to look at me. His head rolled towards me but his eyes were nearly squeezed shut. "How's your head feel?"

"Stop shouting." He panted. I pulled out a few ibuprofen tablets.

"Take these." I said softly, pressing them against his lips. He accepted, thankfully. "What's your name?"

"Why are you asking what his name is?" Cas was confused again.

"He has a concussion. I'm trying to see how bad it is." I replied. "What's your name?"

"S-Sam. Sam… Smith." He said.

I frowned. "Cas, turn some of the lights off, would you?" I waited until half the lights were out. "Sam, you don't have to lie about your name. It's just me. It's just Ali. I know who you are. Do you know where you live?"

"Lebanon, Kansas." He said. I pulled a small flashlight from the med kit and clicked it on, hiding the light behind my hand.

"Do you know where you are, Sam?" I asked. I shined the light in one eye and saw what I needed before he turned away.

"Stop. I'm… I'm…" I shined the light in the other eye and found no evidence of brain damage from that particular test.

"I'm in the bunker, right?" He asked.

"Yes, we're safe for now." Cas said. Sam seemed to relax a little.

"Sam, can I sew you up?" I asked. "I'm sorry about the glass."

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead." His head thumped back onto the table and stayed there. I used baseball stitches to close the two biggest stab wounds. Cas held the flashlight so he and Sam wouldn't have to squint at the overhead lights.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as I finished cleaning up a few minutes later.

Sam hadn't moved from his position on the table even after I told him he could go lay down. We even offered to help him to his room. "Exhausted. Like I haven't slept in a month."

"Are you sure you don't want to go to bed?" I asked. "Or were you waiting for the pain meds to kick in?"

"Meds." He said softly.

"Have they kicked in yet?"

"Oh yeah."

"So off to bed now?" I asked.

"Yeah." Cas and I got him to his room and he settled into his bed. I closed the door behind us as Cas and I headed back to the library.

"Cas, what happened out there?" I asked.

"We were ambushed by twelve demons. Fisher was the bait, apparently. One of them threw Sam into a window and he landed on his shoulder blades, but his head snapped back against the concrete. He was unconscious until you began pulling the glass from his arm." Cas said. "I did get a glimpse of another binding spell on the walls of the motel. It was different than the first. And the demons had strange weapons. I think I've read about them somewhere before or seen pictures…"

"Cas, is that your own blood on your trench coat?" I asked, pointing to the red splotches that surrounded small tears in his coat.

"Probably some of mine, some of Sam's, and some of the demons'." He said.

"Are you hurt?" I asked.

"Yes."

I rolled my eyes and followed him back into the library. This was like pulling teeth. "Where?"

The shoulder cut wasn't deep enough to suture and the flank cut only took a few minutes to finish. After I'd covered the areas and checked him over for any more injuries, I cleared him to go to bed. "Thank you." Cas said.

"Get some rest." I said, patting him on the uninjured shoulder. I turned around to collect Dean from his pen and head to bed myself.

Dean was gone.

"Cas, do you know where Dean went?" I asked, trying to control the panic rising in my stomach. If he tried to climb another bookcase or knock over another relic, I was going to throw my own temper tantrum.

"No. Is he missing?" Cas asked.

"Let me just do a quick bunker check." I ran into the kitchen and listened hard. Nothing there. When I got to the hallway, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Dean was trying to reach the handle on Sam's door. I picked him up and he squirmed. His eyes were tearing up, making his nose run even more.

"No. Ammy." He said, pushing against me. I knocked softly and opened the door, careful to keep the hall light out of Sam's eyes.

"Sam, Dean wants to sleep with you tonight. Is that okay?" I asked softly. I wasn't sure if Sam was asleep or not.

"Yeah, are the sheets tucked in?" He asked. From the sound of his voice, he must have been almost asleep. I set Dean on the bed and tucked the sheets in before tucking Dean in against Sam.

"They are now. Just yell if you need anything." I left the room and closed the door. Cas was already sleeping on his cot when I entered the dark library. He must have heard me find Dean.

I strolled in the dark to my bedroom and concentrated on the cool tile beneath my feet. If one thing was steady in our lives, it was certainly the bunker.


	18. Hex Bags and Stew

**A/N: Vivi here! Sorry about the goofy chapter titles. I'm not great with naming things. Anyway, let's get down to it! I hope you enjoy Hex Bags and Stew.**

My alarm went off at its usual five a.m. the next morning. I was curled into the fetal position; leak week had begun, back with full force. The episodes hadn't been noticeable while I was possessed. They must have been storing up because this was the worst I'd felt since they started when I was like twelve.

I hobbled, doubled over, into the kitchen and took some pain medication. Luckily, I'd convinced the guys to buy me a couple boxes of lady supplies a few months ago, thinking I'd need them. Well, now I certainly did.

With the flood waters sufficiently dammed and the drugs starting to take the edge off, I checked on Sam and Dean, who were both still sleeping. Cas was still sleeping too. He'd taken to sleeping longer and longer since we got back from the mine. I wondered if enjoyed dreaming or if the unconsciousness was a welcome refuge from his current predicament. Anyhow, the next three hours were all mine.

I changed out of my bloody pajama pants and into some ripped jeans. A stained shirt that I used for cleaning replaced a not stained sleeping shirt, which Sam gave to me. It was one of his tees, but he claimed it no longer fit him.

Once I was in the garage, it didn't take me long to find Dean's stash of tools. If he knew I was working on Baby, he might be just a teensy bit upset. I memorized his system of tool keeping, which was basically a lack thereof, and pulled out a few pieces.

Man would it feel good to work on a car again. This was just the break I needed after the past few days. I hoped Dean wouldn't notice the work.

"Hey, girl." I whispered as I ran my hand along the deep gashes in the paint. "Dean's a little preoccupied. I won't tell if you don't."

Three hours later, I'd finished cleaning the interior. It was well taken care of, but the guys could be messy. I cleaned out quite a few crumbs and odds and ends; a pendant here, a rosary there, one beat up silver ring. I took a shine to the ring and tried it on all my fingers. My right thumb was the only one it fit on. I decided to keep it around until I could ask if it belonged to one of the guys; I hoped to keep it. After a while, I forgot it was there.

Once the interior was done, I found myself under the Impala on a creeper, ratchet and socket set at hand. The muffler had been nearly knocked off somehow and had pulled the rest of the exhaust system down with it. I was putting the new clamp in place when I heard a familiar set of footsteps. I grimaced like a kid caught with a stolen cookie.

"Ali?" Sam asked, clearly surprised. I rolled further under the car and finished tightening the clamp.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?" He laughed at the sight of me, halfway under the Impala.

I emerged and sat up, slightly embarrassed and slightly in pain from my uterus trying to kill itself. Luckily, the grease and oil on my face hid the blush. "Reattaching the exhaust. It was dangling." I said. Sam's left arm was caught up in a makeshift sling that I hadn't noticed before.

"Does Dean know you're working on his car?" Sam was smiling. I hoped Dean wasn't toddling behind him in the hall.

"No. Are you gonna tell on me?" I asked playfully.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I didn't know you were into that stuff."

"Yeah, my Dad was a mechanic and taught me almost everything he knew. He told me he never wanted me to rely on a man to do what I could do myself." I smiled. "He taught me how to cut down trees and use a chainsaw, and shoot a gun… My cousins and I, all sixteen of us, used to go out into the woods and play paintball. Sometimes the uncles and aunts would join in. My only female cousin, Brit, my sister and I usually won." I smiled to myself and took a deep breath. "So yeah. I find working on cars to be very therapeutic."

"Well, I'm glad to see you're still here; I thought maybe you'd gone somewhere." He looked the Impala over before looking back to me. "I haven't eaten in a whole day, so I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

"Where's Dean?" I asked.

"Playpen. Library. Tormenting Cas until he wakes up."

"Sounds like Dean."

By midafternoon, I was getting blisters and cramps like crazy. I decided that was enough work on Baby for now. The guys were doing research in the very dimly lit library and Dean was playing with his toy car when I arrived. I'd already removed the filth from my face and arms so Dean would be none the wiser. I had also taken care to re-medicate so I wouldn't bite anyone's head off. The first day was always the worst for me.

"Ali, hey. We have a new theory." Sam said when he looked up.

"Tell me more." I sat opposite him, next to Cas.

"We think the demon Dean was talking about might be Crowley."

"Who's Crowley?" I asked.

Sam paused to see if I was joking. I was not. "Uh, king of Hell, we've got kind of a history with him. Anyway, we think he hired the witch to catch Dean; he's kind of obsessed. So the witch caught Wendigoes to start taking people to draw us out. Then they took Dean and the witch made him a baby so he couldn't get away."

Cas chimed in at that point. "However, you found Dean and we rescued him from the mine before the witch was able to report back to Crowley. That's why he's been tracking us. Then he happened upon you at the clinic and tried to kill you and take Dean to Crowley. Yet again, Fisher's plan was unsuccessful."

"And the ambush was perfectly planned; he knew we would be coming when he checked into that motel. If he could capture one of us, he'd have leverage to get to Dean." Sam said.

"So why were they trying to kill you?" I asked.

"I think they were trying to catch us. Monsters have funny ways of trying to catch people." Sam said, looking back to his laptop.

"So this Crowley guy wants Dean. What are we going to do about it?" I asked.

"We need to talk to Fisher." Cas said.

"How are we going to talk to Fisher without being ambushed or captured?" I asked.

"Ammy." Dean said. Everyone turned to see what he was up to. He held his arms out and coughed. It sounded deep, like it was trying to move some stuff out of his lungs.

"I can't lift you with this arm, dude." Sam said, shrugging.

Dean turned to me. "Li."

"You and I both know you can get out of that on your own." I said. He pouted and stretched his arms out further. With a sigh, I stood and picked him up. He was running a low fever now and the cough was new. His nose ran more than ever; I wiped it before setting him down. He was happy sitting on the table after I gave him some meds for the fever. We resumed our conversation after exchanging some worried looks.

"We're working on the plan." Sam said.

"Anything so far?" I asked.

"Well, no…" Sam returned his focus to his laptop.

"Cas, watch Dean for a minute." I left the library and returned with some paper and a pack of crayons I'd found sitting around. Part of me wanted to know why they had crayons in the bunker, but part of me didn't want to know; it was probably a long story. Dean seemed excited about them when I placed the things in front of him. "Just in case you have anything to contribute."

He started scribbling circles. I shrugged. At least I tried.

"We're trying to come up with a plan that will get us to Fisher but also keep us away from that hoard of demons." Cas said. "Unfortunately it's very difficult for me to think with this headache."

"You still have a headache?" I asked.

"Yes." No wonder they were still sitting in dim light.

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. Then I had a thought. Perhaps Fisher had put a curse on Cas, giving him a debilitating headache. Maybe he was trying to keep us from finding him by hurting Cas. He probably thought he'd already taken Sam out of commission. "Cas, is your tattoo pulling at you?"

"Yes, but it often does that. I'm currently wanted." Cas said with his head resting in his hands.

His being a wanted angel wasn't news to me. "Do you need more pain meds? Did they help before?" I asked.

"They did help some. I took several tablets a few minutes ago."

"He took like eight." Sam said, not looking up from his laptop.

"Are you going to be okay with that? That would be dangerous to me." I asked.

"I'll be fine." Cas said. I snorted a quick laugh as a bright red crayon smacked into his cheek.

"Dean, that wasn't nice. Be nice to the angel." I said. Cas looked upset until we saw Dean flailing his arms frantically and slamming his hands down on his drawing. It was just a bunch of scribbled circles, in bright red.

"Dean, we're trying to work here." Sam said, frowning at his brother.

I picked up the paper and looked at it for a few seconds. One big, crude circle in the middle. Six more circles, just as big, around the first. Some scribbles off to the side with dots in most of the circles.

"That may leave a mark." Cas said, holding his cheek.

"You'll be fine." I said halfheartedly. Realization hit me like well-aimed crayon. "Guys, Dean's got a plan."

"What?" Sam looked up.

"Check it out. A series of devil's traps. All the demons should get caught in the outer ones, leaving us safe in the inner one. And Fisher would be able to come through them no problem, right? Because he's not a demon." I asked excitedly.

"Yeah." I handed the paper to Sam. "This might work. And then we can exorcise the demons and free the people who are possessed. But how are we supposed to keep the demons from seeing the traps? They don't just walk into these willingly."

"I got an idea. If we go into the woods and make these traps really big, we should be able to cover them with leaf litter without breaking them. Then the demons will walk right in and if there are a lot of them, they won't see the first one hit the edge until they're all in it already." I said. Dean held his hand up and I high-fived it.

"Excellent plan." Cas said. "However, every one of us is warded permanently. We need some way to make Fisher aware of our location without him thinking it's a trap." He was massaging his temples and looking pained. There was actually a spot of red crayon wax on his cheek still.

"Damn it." Sam said. "I burned the hex bag after we were done with it. He could have tracked that."

"Any more ideas?" I asked. We sat in silence for a few minutes. Seeing as we were getting nowhere with the plan, I stood. "Did you guys eat lunch yet?"

"No." Cas said.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes." Sam answered. "You don't have to make us food, Ali. We can fend for ourselves."

"Did I ever tell you my old hobbies, from before the bunker?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"I don't think so." Sam said. "Why?"

"Because you were surprised that I knew how to work on cars and people. I also enjoy cooking, paintball, and music. I've won awards for my desserts and stews, boys." I smiled. "You're looking at the county fair first place pie and beef stew recipient two years running."

"Impressive. Don't get me wrong, I love your food. It's some of the best I've ever had. I just don't want you to feel obligated to feed us all the time." Sam said with a budding smile.

"Oh, hun, I don't cook just for y'all." I smiled, rolled my eyes, and headed out to the kitchen.

"Any progress on how to lure Fisher out?" I asked, balancing four bowls of steaming stew in my arms. I set them down and distributed them before taking my seat.

"If we had something of his, we could summon him." Sam said. "But I burned the hex bag and we can't get near him without being attacked."

"We briefly contemplated compromising our warding to allow him to find us, but decided against that." Cas said, stirring his stew with greedy eyes.

"Why did we throw that one out?" I asked. "We could just fix the warding later, right?"

Sam grimaced. "Yeah, but my warding and Dean's are engraved on our ribs and we can't get to those sigils. Cas is wanted and if we take his down, we'll have bigger problems than we have now. It just doesn't make sense to do it that way."

"What about my warding?" I asked. "Mine's not in my ribs."

"Allison, we can't take that risk." Cas said. "It is true that Fisher would be able to find you, but it's not likely that he is actively seeking you out. The bigger concern is if the demon who possessed you found your location while the warding was down."

"We can't risk your life for this, Ali." Sam said. "Dean and I decided months ago that if we had the chance to use you to help us finish a job, we wouldn't. We won't put another innocent at risk."

I sat back in my chair. "Listen, I'm glad you're watching out for me. I am. But right now that seems like the only way we can get Fisher into the trap. What choice do we have?" I looked at Sam. "Don't you want Dean back to normal? Because I do."

Sam frowned at me. "He and I had a deal. Have a deal. We won't risk it. We'll figure something else out."

"Fine." We sat in silence and slurped the stew. Dean's was basically a puree, but he still enjoyed it. I think Sam and Cas did too, but they were concentrating too hard on their research for me to gauge their reaction. When I finished, I headed back out to the garage to blow off some steam.

With Dean's wrench in my hand, I slid back under Baby on the creeper to make sure nothing else was loose. Some things were, but not nearly as bad as the exhaust had been.

I'd brought a work light with me this time instead of my cell phone light. The parts down here were mostly new. I was surprised; this was a '67 Impala. Finding an original part with the appropriate wear and tear for its age under here was proving to be difficult. As I slid around, checking connections, I bumped into the tire. Before I pushed away from it, something caught my eye.

"Litterbugs." I reached up to pull the piece of trash from where it was lodged near the wheel well, but what came back into my hand was not what I had expected.

I ran back into the library, covered in grease and dirt, with the thing cradled in my hands. "Guess what I just found?" I asked excitedly. I'd covered my discovery with my hands to make it surprise.

"Please don't be a kitten." Sam said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dean's allergic."

"Is this a game?" Cas asked.

"Just guess." I said.

"Is it a… mouse?" Sam asked.

"My lost sock?" Cas asked.

"Try again, both of you."

"Ali, come on."

"A donut?" Cas asked, still confused.

"No." I opened my hands.

Sam smiled. "A hex bag."

"Where did you get that?" Cas asked.

"It was in the wheel well of the Impala." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean look at me accusingly. "Sorry Dean. I'll explain later."

"So now we have our bait." Sam said, standing. "What are we waiting for?"


	19. The Big Score

**A/N: Vivi here! Welcome back! We have another two chapter, back to back posting this time! They flow well together and they were already written, so I figured, why not post both? There is some mild language and violence in these chapters. Please be aware of that. As always, let me know what you think! Enjoy the latest installment of Internal Medicine: The Big Score.**

"No, you can't come." Sam said for the fifteenth time. He put the warded box containing the hex bag into his duffel and zipped it shut. The bag was then slung over his right shoulder, since his left was still in a sling.

"It's not like we're in any danger from anyone but Fisher." I said, following him around the bunker with Dean on my shoulders. The little hunter had tried to get to the sword display on the bookshelves again and almost got impaled by one as it fell. With Cas and Sam too busy packing and getting ready for the big score, my shoulders were the safest place for him. "And Cas is warding the devil's trap for witches too, right? As soon as he gets close enough to do anything he'll be powerless."

"Allison, no." His resolve seemed to be waning with each time I asked to go.

"Please? I just want to see what it's like. If you leave me here I might follow you anyway." I said. "You won't know until it's too late."

Sam stopped gathering supplies and faced me with a weary look in his eyes. "Fine. But you won't leave Cas' side, okay?"

"Of course. Thanks, Sammy. Dean won't leave my side either." I said.

"Now Dean's coming?"

"He can't stay here alone." I said.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean can't come. And if he can't stay here alone, then we'll have to drop him at a day care or something."

"Sam, there are probably demons at every establishment within a fifty mile radius of town. They know we're nearby." Cas said from the doorway.

"Ali, please just stay here with Dean. This will be so much easier if you just…" He trailed off, frustration in his eyes.

"If I just stand down and let the professionals take over?" I asked. "If I stay and keep the toddling hunter out of trouble while my friends go put out a neon light for a hoard of demons and a powerful witch?"

"Yes." Sam said, frowning. I could tell he was getting even more frustrated. "Look, Ali, I get that it's frustrating to you. But please. I promised Dean and he promised me that we would try to keep you out of this business. We've lost too many friends already."

"We weren't even friends when you made that deal." I huffed.

"That doesn't matter. Me and Cas will be back before you know it." Sam pushed past me and joined Cas in the car. I heard them drive off.

"Dammit." I kicked a pillar only to immediately regret that decision. "We're going anyway."

I plopped Dean on my bed and threw his stuff, tissues, and a few bottles of water into a book bag I'd had for a while now. The same blanket I'd taken on our Centerville trip made it into the bag too. "Are you ready to go catch a witch, Dean?"

"No." Dean said, grabbing my arm. A deep cough rocked his chest.

"What now?" I asked. "Do you seriously remember making that deal with Sam? Are you going to try to keep me from going?"

"Ya." He let me go.

"That's adorable. We're still going." I grabbed the duffel and Dean, who protested fervently. We took the only remaining car, a little red two seater. I was surprised it ran, but then again, Dean was usually out in the garage for a few hours after every hunt.

I parked the car a few hundred yards from the location we had planned to enter the forest. The Impala was there, empty. I grabbed Dean and zipped him into the right side of my coat, using an old scarf to hold him up. He'd realized halfway through our drive that there was no way for him to convince me otherwise. I was relieved that he sat still against my side.

Sam and Cas had already drawn the devil's traps and concealed them with leaves when they came into my line of sight. I hid behind trees, thinking that I would stay out of sight until they opened the box that hid the hex bag from the witch. That way they couldn't send me away before starting and I'd have time to join them in the safety of the circles before anything came to the beacon.

It was only a few minutes before they were done setting up and the box appeared from out of Sam's duffel. He took his sling off and tossed it into the bag. They were wearing funny looking blue shirts under their coats; I wondered if those were special witch-warded garments or if they were just to keep warm.

Sam opened the box almost before I noticed what was going on and took out the bag, letting it fall to the ground. Their backs were to me at that point. He waited a few seconds before dropping a lit match on the bag. Between the guys, watched it burst into flames and burn into nothing. Fear crept into my chest and I moved out from behind a tree, suddenly anxious to get into the circles.

An angry looking man appeared before me, facing the circles, his back to me. I gasped silently and started to move back behind the tree, but a hand grabbed me. A woman with corn-yellow hair and bad teeth grinned at me with black eyes shining.

"Christo." I muttered reflexively. She flinched and her grip loosened enough for me rip free. I sprinted past the man and past several others that appeared along the way.

I was fifty feet out from the outermost circles when one of the women started yelling. "That's the one!" Her cries seemed to stir the others into a frenzy and they all began running at me, much faster than any human could run.

Sam and Cas turned when they heard the commotion. "Shit!" Sam yelled. He was already sprinting towards me, knife in hand. I wondered if that was the famous demon knife. Cas was right behind him with his angel blade. I passed into the first circle and ran between them. We retreated into the inner circle without shedding any blood.

This was a stupid idea. Why couldn't I have just listened to the professionals? Bad, bad Allison. Endangering your friends and yourself all because of your own stupid ego.

"Allison, what were you thinking?" Cas demanded. I turned and saw the hoard of demons slam into the side of the devil's trap that we'd just made it out of. They were coming from every direction; half the town must have been possessed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I made a bad decision." I said, still trying to catch my breath. Dean grumbled at me from inside the coat.

"And you brought Dean?" Sam said. "Ali, what the hell?"

"I'm sorry, I…" I hung my head and tried to disappear. "I'm sorry." The cacophony of angry shouts from the outer circles filled the air and harmonized with the thoughts in my head.

"Stand between us." Sam said. I noticed that he and Cas were on either side of me, facing away, kind of shielding me from view of the demons.

"Why? They can't do anything to us from there. They're powerless." I said, looking around at the angry faces of the townsfolk I'd seen out and about on occasion.

"They may not have the whole demon thing going for them anymore, but some of them may have guns." Sam said.

"I hadn't thought of that." The blood drained from my face as I spoke.

"Hey, listen up." Sam shouted. The demons gradually grew quieter and faced us with murderous expressions. Hundreds of black eyes blinked at us and I shrunk further into the back of Cas' trench coat. It was taking all I had not to have a paralyzing flashback. The breathtaking anxiety was already halfway up my throat. "We'll let you go if you bring us Fisher." Almost immediately, several of them began shouting terrible things at us.

I jumped as a series of loud bangs echoed through the forest. Cas fell against me and slid off. He hit the ground pretty hard.

White hot pain filled my mind as Cas landed and I couldn't move. Sam turned to me and pushed me quickly but gently to the ground so that I was lying beside Cas. Luckily I didn't land on Dean.

I struggled to catch my breath. The pain, I decided, was radiating from my lower half. My right leg was throbbing and I couldn't focus on anything else for a few seconds. Sam began saying some strange words and the demons began to writhe and scream and swear at him. By the time my eyes would focus again, all I could see above me was a swirling cloud of black fog, which promptly dove into the earth under the devil's traps. The people the demons had possessed lay motionless all around us. I rolled onto my left side to see Cas, but the motion sent shots of stinging pain through my leg and side. I rolled onto my back again. Dean was struggling to escape my jacket, but I didn't stop him. I had to focus on breathing.

Sam had run away from us. He was yelling at someone. More gunfire rocked the forest and I heard something heavy hit the ground a few seconds after.

Cas was still on his back, clutching his chest.

"Cas. No…" I gasped, pushing the pain away to the place I shoved all my pain. With some difficulty, I sat up and looked him over. Sam was nowhere to be seen. "Cas?"

"I'm fine." He grunted. I looked to his chest and saw a hole ripped in his shirt that was the exact size of a bullet.

"You've been shot." I said, tears forming in my eyes. Fear and panic and regret coursed through my veins as I stared at the hole. I'd just killed another friend, maybe two… How could I be so reckless?

"That's gonna leave a nasty bruise." Sam said from a few yards away. My eyes shot to him. He wasn't hurt; not a speck of blood on him. I felt my chest release a little; I hadn't realized that it was so tight it hurt. Sam took Cas' hand to help him up. Once they were both on their feet, I saw the funny looking blue shirt through the hole in Cas' shirt.

"Bullet proof vests?" I asked, trying desperately to keep my voice level.

"Yeah." Sam said. "They're pretty handy." He reached down and helped me up. I stood on one leg and tried to mask my pain.

"So where's Fisher?" I asked. "He didn't show?"

"He hid in the crowd. When I exorcised the demons he didn't fall at the right time and I saw him fake it. He saw me see him fake it though, and pulled a gun. I caught him. He's tied up just over there." Sam pointed to where I'd seen him run earlier.

"We did it? We actually have the witch?" I asked in amazement.

"Yeah, that was the plan." Sam smirked at me. "We need to get back to the bunker in case a second wave decides to come see what happened to the first. And Ali? No more surprise appearances on hunts, okay?"

"I agree." Cas huffed. He seemed slightly annoyed that he'd been shot. He and Sam retrieved Fisher and began carrying him toward the Impala.

"Fine, but what about all these people?" I asked. Some of them were starting to move or groan. I limped as fast as I could after the guys. Each step sent a fresh jolt up my spine and a more drops of red down my pant leg.

"They'll wake up and find their way back home on their own." Sam said. "Hopefully they won't get possessed again."

"Shouldn't we call someone?" I asked. "The police or something?"

"It's better we not get any more demons involved." Cas said. "We don't know how many are in the community."

I was out of breath when I reached the Impala. "I'll meet you guys at the bunker then. I brought the red car."

"We'll follow you." Sam said. My right leg throbbed intensely and made my vision blur; on top of that, I accidentally bumped it while putting Dean into the car seat. I ended up driving with my left leg. Surprisingly, I made it back to the bunker safely and had obeyed all traffic laws. However, I was not surprised when I passed about after turning the car off.

 **A/N: Review please! I love the feedback. What did you like, what did you hate? What made you think in this chapter?**


	20. Pie, Periods, and a Difficult Decision

**A/N: Vivi here! As promised, the second half of the two chapters I promised just a few minutes ago. Mild language and violence again. Without further ado, here's Pie, Periods, and a Difficult Decision!**

I came to just a few seconds later, but my head had hit the steering wheel and honked the horn. Cas was already opening my door when my eyes opened. "Are you hurt?" He asked. I fumbled with the buckle until it came off and pushed past Cas to get out. The effort made me stumble and I caught myself against the back of the car. "What happened this time?" Cas asked, somewhat impatiently.

"Nothing." I snapped, standing upright. Most of my weight was on my good leg.

"Cas, would you mind?" Sam and Cas carried Fisher into the dungeon. I took advantage of the small window of distraction and closed myself in my room. Dean was coughing occasionally, and giving me the cold shoulder from his playpen in the corner while I pressed a wad of gauze against the bullet wound on my leg. My vision was still swimming.

Cas returned more quickly than I'd anticipated. He knocked at my door; it had taken me a few weeks to train him to do that after I moved in, but he had it down now. "Allison, what's going on?"

"Nothing you need to be worried about." I yelled through the door. If I passed out again, at least I'd already be in my bed.

"Allison, there's blood in the car. What happened?" He sounded irritated.

"It's shark week." I said, irritation leaking into my tone. At least it was good for something this time around.

"No, Shark Week isn't on television until July." Cas said.

I sighed loudly. "Aunt Flo has come to visit. The red tide is upon us. It's flooding down south."

"I- I don't understand. Your aunts are-"

"I'm menstruating." I groaned. The door was quiet after that. A few minutes later, I peeked out to see if Cas had really gone or if I had just stunned him into silence. He was gone. I left Dean closed in my room while I ran to the bathroom with a change of clothes. I rinsed the blood from my leg. The bullet had just grazed me; the pain was so much worse than the actual injury. I was glad. With my wound patched and fresh clothes on, I returned to find Dean playing with the black sports car and making loud car noises. If I hadn't known him as an adult, I would think he was the cutest, most innocent little boy I'd met in a long time.

I watched him from my perch on the end of my bed. He was in his own little world. The familiar ache in my chest that greeted me every time I watched him play came seeping back. He looked so much like my nephew; blond hair, green eyes. As a man, Dean looked exactly like my husband from behind. Same short hair, same build, same shoe size even. But he could never compare to those deep, chocolate brown irises and that toothy grin that my husband wore so well. Sometimes I wondered what our son would have looked like. I tried to avoid dwelling on that subject. There was still too much pain there.

"Li?" I looked up to see Dean standing as close as he could to me inside the playpen. The car was forgotten, upside-down in the other corner. He looked concerned and held out his hand to me.

I smiled and quickly wiped the tears from my eyes. "What's up?" I asked, picking him up and holding him against my hip.

He reached up and got a tear that I'd missed. Then he leaned against my shoulder and hugged me as hard as he could. I hugged him back and let the melancholy feelings fade. "Sorry about risking your life. I couldn't let them risk theirs alone and I couldn't leave you. You are a handful, Dean Winchester."

An angry shout came from deep within the bunker and made me jump. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The interrogation had begun.

Five minutes later, the yelling was still audible; I couldn't understand what was being said but the sound of shouting was enough. I dragged Dean in the playpen into the kitchen. He enjoyed the ride and I enjoyed the fact that the kitchen was relatively closed off and I could no longer hear as much shouting.

"Well, today was a mess." I said, massaging my temples at the table. All those little details, the guns, the vests, the total lack realization that as soon as the bag was out demons would show up… All those details were utterly overlooked in my quest to make myself useful. I'd effectively endangered the lives of all my remaining friends as well as my own. I'd never live this down. I would never let myself.

A soft echo of shouting made its way into the kitchen and I let my head rest on the table. There was no escaping it. Unless… I stood and turned on the stove hood. It was loud enough to drown out the noise.

Dean looked up with a gleam of hope in his eyes when I turned around. "What's that look for?" I asked. He pushed his hand into his stomach. I glanced at the clock; it was almost dinnertime. He got a handful of cereal in a plastic bowl while I started making dinner to drown out the thoughts and shouts.

"Burgers sound good?" I asked him as I dug through the freezer.

"Ya." Dean sounded overjoyed to finally have a chance at his favorite dish.

"It's final then." I set the burgers to cook on the stove and was left with nothing to fill my time. Looking around the kitchen, I saw a bag of flour, a bag of sugar, several cans of fruit, and some ideally shaped bakeware. It didn't even matter that it had a fine layer of dust covering it. I glanced at Dean, who was once again lost in his own little world. I hoped some pies would help him feel better.

Several hours later, Dean had already devoured the burger I gave to him in very small pieces. He snoozed like a happy drunk while I put the second pie, uncooked, into the freezer for later. The first, which I'd only just pulled from the oven, sat steaming on the stove top. I was only half surprised that Dean hadn't woken up at the smell of it. His nose was probably plugged.

Sam and Cas walked in, looking tired. Sam had his sling back on and slumped down at the kitchen table. Cas came up to me and looked me over. "How are you feeling? Sam told me the more intricate details of your predicament." Cas said with too much eye contact. "I understand the lining of your uterus is shedding and causing you significant pain. He was very detailed in his explanation."

"Come on, Cas." Sam said, blood rushing to his face.

"I'm fine." I said quickly. "It's no biggie. After a few years a girl learns how to deal. How's your chest?"

"I'll survive. Did you make… pie?" Cas asked.

"I thought I smelled something delicious." Sam stood and came to look at the oven-fresh creation. Dean had woken up at the very word and was now pounding on his playpen and calling for Sam. Sam, of course, brought him to join in the viewing of the pie.

"I made burgers too. No pie until the burgers are gone." I said, wagging my finger at them. "It's too hot to eat right now."

"Yes, ma'am." Sam said.

It was no wonder they ate the burgers so fast. Dean had gotten a small piece of pie, cooled quickly in the freezer, and was thoroughly enjoying it in front of them, making a mess of the table and his clothes. I'd made my award winning cherry pie; personally, I didn't care for pie, but this and apple were the only two I did like.

"So how's Fisher coming?" I asked after Sam had finished his slice and was eyeing a second.

"Uh, he's not. We haven't cracked him yet." Sam said, as if he thought he had let me down. He stood and retrieved another slice.

"I'm guessing this is going to take a while?" I asked.

"We're doing all we can." Cas said. "He seems resolved to die with his secrets."

"Why wouldn't he just reverse the curse he put on Dean and walk away?" I asked.

"He won't be walking away." Sam said. There was a frightening darkness to his words that reminded me of just how much he'd been through and how far he was willing to go for his family.

"Have you tried to get him to lift it?" I asked cautiously.

"Yes, Allison." Cas said. "That was the first thing we asked. We haven't made any progress since he regained consciousness."

I frowned. "I feel bad for asking, but if he 'doesn't walk away', will the curse go away?"

Sam hung his head. "We don't know. Some curses die with the holder, some don't."

"Sam, what if it doesn't resolve? What will we do?"

"We'll just have to figure something else out." He said quickly, stabbing the pie with his fork.

My jaw threatened to drop open. "O-okay then." I cleared my throat and collected my thoughts. Perhaps I would have to raise one of my best friends after all. "Are you going to go scream at him anymore?"

"Could you hear that?" Cas asked.

"Vividly." I said, suppressing a shudder.

"We'll try to keep it down." Sam said. Once he finished his slice, he and Cas headed back to the dungeon. I washed the dishes and turned the stove's vent fan off. The remaining pie made it into the fridge before I turned back to the playpen.

I felt bad for Dean. His cold wasn't improving fast enough for his taste and he certainly let me know. When he woke up, I checked his throat and his tonsils were red and swollen with little white spots all over them. I gave him some medicine for the pain and warm water in a sippy cup to try and soothe the angry looking throat, but he still seemed uncomfortable. I carried the play pen into my room and he fussed when he realized it was bedtime and he couldn't sleep in Sam's bed. I got changed in the bathroom, cleaned up the bloody mess, and returned to change him into pajamas. When I felt his skin, though, I decided against the extra layers. He was running a low fever again, so just a diaper would do for now.

He clung to my arms when I set him back in the pen. "Dean, it's bedtime, okay? Go to sleep. The medicine should kick in soon." I turned out the overhead light and got in bed.

"Li?" The voice was hoarse and quiet. "Li?"

My desk lamp flicked on and I sat up so Dean could see me. "What is it, Dean?"

"Up." He said, lifting his arms to me. Snot had started to run down his face; tears were just a few moments away.

"You have your own sleeping spot, Dean." I said. I got up and handed him a tissue, which he rubbed all over his face. Finally, I had to wipe his nose myself.

"Peas Li, up." He held his arms to me again and coughed.

I felt my resolve begin to wane. Those big green eyes, that pitiful voice, the total lack of grammar… For a long time, I'd known I had a soft spot for kids. I sighed and picked him up, putting him in my bed. "Just for tonight, okay?"

He was already asleep. I climbed in next to him and pulled the sheets over us; the boilers would go off in a few minutes. I sincerely hoped that Sam and Cas would keep the noise level down; I did not need eerie shouts invading my already awful nightmares.

The desk lamp was extinguished and I rested my left hand on Dean's stomach. Somehow his steady albeit congested breathing and quick heartbeat, normal for kids that age, were very comforting to me. I fell asleep more quickly than I had in a long time.

 **A/N: Review, peas!**


	21. The Man in Her Bed

**A/N: Vivi here! I have a feeling that this chapter is highly anticipated by a lot of readers, so here you go! Just a few things before we get started. I wanted to send a shoutout to SpnKsl5 and Happygoddess2003 for their awesome reviews! Thanks guys, it means a lot! Also, I'm nearing the end of writing this story at the moment; this chapter will be about 54,000 words into our narrative, but the whole story will end up being about 92,000. I didn't anticipate it being so long, but the plot need it, so I listened. Also, I'm thinking about a second story following some loose-ended plot points from this one. Let me know what you think as the story progresses! For now, enjoy the latest chapter of Internal Medicine.**

I woke with a start as Dean moved quite suddenly in his sleep. It was pitch black in the room but I could still hear his congested breathing and feel his heartbeat. Comforted, my eyelids started to close. Then they shot open.

His heartbeat was way too slow. Something was wrong. I reached over and turned on my desk lamp. Looking back to Dean, I gasped and adrenaline began pumping through my body, spiking my heartrate. It took me a few seconds of stunned silence to realize that the man in the bed next to me was Dean. The old Dean. Our Dean.

"D-Dean?" I said as my stupor subsided.

He had been lying on his back, as I made him do when he was a toddler. He groaned and rolled over to lie on his stomach, head tilted away from me and the desk lamp. I shook his shoulder gently and called his name again. He still had a fever and was radiating heat.

"Eh?" He grunted, mostly asleep.

"Dean? You in there?" I asked as my heartbeat slowly began to decline.

"Damn straight." He muttered. I sat up and looked him over, but most of him was still covered by sheets. Nothing looked particularly out of place.

"Dean, wake up." I said.

"No…" He whined. I punched his shoulder gently, but with more force than I'd use on a toddler. "What the hell…" He turned to look at me with confusion in his eyes.

We locked gazes and I spoke with a smirk on my lips. "I don't like strange men in my bed."

I watched as the gears started to turn in his head. He looked down at his arms and his eyes grew wide. "Li, am I…?"

"You're a big boy now." I smiled, knowing that somehow Sam and Cas had broken Fisher's curse.

Dean smiled hugely and sat up, checking himself over. His nose was still running and was bright red from all the tissues we'd used but otherwise, he looked fine. He was, however, naked and covered only by my plaid flannel sheets. I stood and went to his room to grab his robe.

"Thanks." He said as I tossed it to him.

"Welcome back, Dean." I said, sitting on the edge of my bed and averting my eyes as he donned the robe.

"Good to be back." He sat down on my bed again and sniffed his nose. "I'm still sick."

"Yeah, I'm guessing that wasn't part of the curse." I said.

"Ug, I ache all over." He frowned and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

"I'm glad you're back, Dean. Let me go call Sam real quick; I'll bring back some pain pills." I left my room and walked out to the library to make the call. There was no way I was going to go to the dungeon right now. There was no telling what I'd see.

"Ali? Did anything change?" Sam asked as I reached him after the first ring.

"Yeah, he's an adult again. Walking, talking, and smiling but still sick. What happened on your end?" I asked.

"Fisher is dead." Sam said bluntly. I felt like he wasn't giving me all the information. "Cas got some of his mojo back too. We think Fisher has been trying to track us for a while. He said he was working with demons but he wouldn't give us any names. We think he used them to attack Cas with cursed weapons."

"Wow. Okay, glad to hear Cas is kinda back, I guess. So… are we in the clear now? Is anything actively hunting us anymore?" I asked.

"I don't think so, but it's hard to say. Fisher wouldn't tell us much. We think he may have been working with someone else, other than the demons he hired." Sam seemed to cut short again, but I let it go. I was just glad my friends were back to almost-normal.

"Okay. What's next?"

"Not sure. We need to figure out who he was working with, but he didn't give us any leads. We may just need to lie low for a while."

"Good idea. Hey, Dean's still pretty sick so I don't think he can help dispose of…"

"Yeah, let him rest. I'm just glad he's finally back to normal."

I smiled to myself in the dark library. "Go team." I knew Cas could hear our conversation as well.

Sam chuckled. "Yeah. Go back to sleep, Ali. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Night guys." I said. From the kitchen cabinet, I grabbed the whole bottle of ibuprofen.

Dean was asleep in my bed with the lamp still on when I returned. I set the pills on the nightstand and rather than wake him, I just scooted in the other side and pulled the blankets over us both. "Just for tonight, okay?" I whispered. With the lamp off, I couldn't see him move closer to me, but I could feel the scratchy robe and the radiating body heat with no problem. He was practically hugging me by the time I fell asleep.

My alarm went off at its usual five a.m. the next morning. I silenced it quickly and pried Dean's arm off of my side without waking him. He needed all the rest he could get. This cold had been a nasty one. No one in the bunker felt 100%. Sam still had stitches in his arm, Dean was sick, Cas was miserable without all his grace, and I was dealing with Wendigo claw marks, a bullet graze, and a suicidal uterus. Luckily, the first day of shark week was over and the pain was only lightly throbbing today.

With a spring in my step, I set to work making a big breakfast. It had been weeks since I'd made this kind of morning meal. Soon, breakfast was sizzling on the old eight burner gas stove. I pulled out my mp3 player and turned it up. Hash browns, bacon, eggs both scrabbled and omelet style with veggies and turkey, and a few chocolate chip pancakes got to watch me dance to my favorite pop songs as they cooked. I closed my eyes and enjoyed this easy feeling, the warmth from the stove, the cool tile underfoot, the knowledge that my friends were safe and well on their way to recovery. Just before I needed to flip the pancakes, I started the coffee machine and checked to see if Cas was up.

I must have brought in the scent of breakfast when I entered the library. Cas' nose sniffed hard and he lifted his head, looking around.

"Morning, sunshine." I said with a smile on my face.

He blinked sleepily. "Why did you call me sunshine? Is my grace showing?" His voice was a little hoarse still from yesterday. I also noticed that he hadn't changed out of his trench coat, which was spackled with traces of blood.

"It's just a saying. A term of endearment." I waved the turner that I held. "Breakfast will be ready after you clean up."

"Okay." He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. I rushed back to the kitchen to flip the pancakes just in time. As an afterthought, I dug the leftover cherry pie out of the fridge and put it in the oven to warm up.

A few minutes later, I heard a door open and close. "Oh, yeah." The voice of the younger Winchester echoed softly down the hall. He walked in, rather stiffly and breathed deeply, taking in the smells and warmth from the stove. The boilers had yet to kick on and the hallway was still frigid.

"Morning, Sammy." I said. "Coffee's almost ready."

"You're awesome, Ali." He made his way to the kitchen table and sat down heavily, putting his laptop in front of him.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" I asked.

"I want to see if anything strange happened when we killed Fisher." Sam said. I frowned. For the first time, I realized that I'd been an accomplice in a murder. I mean, I was already a full blown serial killer to the rest of society. If the police ever caught me, I'd be pinned down for at least thirty-seven murders and probably several accomplice charges. If that did happen, I sincerely hoped that the guys wouldn't get swept up in it too.

"Let me know if you find anything." I said. The pancakes were done when Cas returned, freshly showered and shaved. He must have borrowed clothes from Sam; I recognized the green plaid shirt.

"Food's ready." I said as I took the last pancake off of the stove.

"Should we wake Dean before we eat?" Cas asked.

"Yes. Yes you should." We looked up to see a droopy-eyed, red-nosed Dean in the doorway, still in his robe. It was open in the front, but he'd put on a few more layers since I last saw him. There was box of tissues under his arm.

Sam smiled hugely and stood quickly. They hugged like they hadn't seen each other in weeks; the tissues hit the ground and Dean kicked them to the table. I poured a few cups of coffee and set one at each seat; coffee was really starting to grow on me. "When your chick flick moment is over, you can get your own food. It's all done." I said. "Have at it."

Dean didn't miss a beat and took his place at the head of the line as he usually had. His plate was piled high as he set it down triumphantly at his seat. His food was halfway gone when I sat down with the rest of them at the table. "Dean, doesn't your throat hurt?" I asked. "It looked terrible yesterday."

"Hurts like I swallowed a bee." He said with a mouthful of pancakes and bacon.

I stared at him for a few seconds. "Then why are you eating so much?"

"I've been a baby for like two weeks. I missed solid foods and stuffing my face." He took a long swig from his white mug. "And coffee. Oh, coffee. You fed me all that healthy stuff Sam's always trying to get me into. Nothing to clog my starving arteries."

"I do not apologize." I said, taking a bite of my omelet. "However, I did make you some chocolate chip pancakes just now, did I not?"

"'ou did." He said with a huge portion in his mouth.

"The pie should be almost warmed up too."

"Pie?" Dean's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, leftovers from yesterday. I have another one in the freezer." I smiled, but my smile faded quickly as Dean began coughing. It passed quickly enough.

"You're going to willingly let us eat pie for breakfast?" Sam said, smirking.

"You are grown men. You can eat pie for breakfast if you want. It's not my job to monitor what you eat." I said, grinning. "I just warmed it up for you." Then I pointed my fork at Dean. "I only monitored your diet because you were a toddler and tried to eat bullets and dust bunnies on several occasions."

Dean's face flushed and Sam laughed. Cas chuckled quietly as he munched on some hash browns. "Yeah, well, everything was so much more intense in such a tiny body." Dean looked into his mug, which was probably empty by now. "It was like I could only focus on one thing at a time and everything was pulling at my attention. The car and then the crayon and then I couldn't figure out why I was being strapped down in that seat or trapped in that baby corral. I felt like I was losing myself sometimes. Like I really was just a kid." The weight of his words bore down on us and we were silent for a few moments. The realization that we really had almost lost Dean was a lot to bear. Who knows how much longer he could have stayed like that before he succumbed and forgot who he was.

"You're back now, Dean." Sam said softly. "And we killed the guy that did it."

"You mean guys?" Dean said, looking up at Sam. Slowly, all of our faces were colored with alarm. The food was forgotten. "You got them both?"

"We- we killed both Wendigoes and the witch that changed you." I said slowly, hoping –praying- that he meant the witch and the Wendigoes.

"They were controlling the Wendigoes. The two witches. You didn't gank them both?" Dean asked, looking between our faces.

"We didn't know there were two." Sam said.

"It was an old guy and a woman, probably mid-thirties? She was hot, but really strong. The Wendigo hung me from the ceiling and she beat me half to death before she left and told the other guy to hold me for a few days before letting the Wendigoes have me." Dean frowned into his coffee cup. I took it from him and refilled it. "Thanks, Li."

"So we have another witch on the loose." Sam said, stabbing a juicy piece of egg.

"Did you get a name?" Cas asked.

"No, but she had all these nasty blisters on her arms and some on her face. Five four, maybe? Couldn't have been more than like a hundred and thirty pounds. Blue eyes. Uh… Brown hair? Maybe if we search the town's traffic lights, we can track her down. If they caught her, she'll be hard to miss." Dean said. He coughed a few times.

"Perhaps that's the reason I remain unable to fly." Cas said suddenly.

"You still can't fly?" I asked. "I thought you were mostly back to normal after Fisher died."

"I am mostly back to my old self, but I'm too weak to fly." Cas said. "Perhaps the other witch cursed me as well."

"Hey, you could just heal Dean's cold, right? You're strong enough for that?" Sam asked with hope in his voice.

Cas shook his head slowly. "If I heal Dean it's likely that I'll be unconscious for a few days. I'm very weak and still human in most senses." He frowned. "I had to shave today."

"Well, it was worth asking." Sam said, returning to his meal. After a few minutes, and with quite a bit of food left on his plate, he set his fork down. "I'll check the traffic cameras and security footage from nearby motels."

"Hey, finish eating first." Dean said, holding his brother's shoulder down as he tried to stand. "I may have been tiny but I saw how you ate the last couple days."

"Fine. How's the cold?" Sam asked, resuming his meal with resignation.

"Awful. And I got a shot that didn't help." Dean glared at me briefly. "I hate shots."

"I honestly thought he was a real doctor. I'm sorry." I said. "I tried."

"And I appreciate that you were concerned enough to get me some help. Pills would have been fine."

"You were in the body of an eighteen month old child, Dean. You couldn't have swallowed pills." I said.

"Whatever."

"Eat your pancakes." I said shortly. I lifted my fork, filled with breakfast goodness, to my mouth and my eyes met Dean's. He seemed to have been staring at my hand.

"Where'd you find that ring?" He asked.

"What ring?" I asked, my mouth full of food. Holding my hand out in front of me, I noticed the silver ring I'd found still lodged securely on my thumb. "Oh, that one. In the Impala. Do you know whose it is?"

Dean nodded. "Keep it. But don't lose it."

"O-okay." I said, unsure of how to take the response.

Cas stood and returned with a piece of pie. Dean eyed it and finished his meal quickly. That slice he retrieved after downing his second cup of coffee didn't last long.

Sam finished his meal and forewent the breakfast pie in favor of starting his long day of sifting through traffic camera footage and security tapes. Eventually, Cas and Dean followed him into the library. I did dishes while listening to my mp3 player. Since the demon was removed from me, I found so many things much easier to do. I could wash the heavy dishes without dropping them, work on cars without fear of them falling on me, talk to the guys without overanalyzing every word. I loved this feeling of freedom.

I joined the guys once I finished. Sam and Dean were typing away at their computers and Cas was reading old Enochian myth books again. "What can I do?" I asked.

Sam looked up. They'd never gotten me my own computer; I counted myself lucky to have a flip phone and an mp3 player from like three years ago. "Uh, you could help Cas." Sam said.

"Sure." We sat for hours, flipping through pages and pages of Enochian lore and traffic camera websites. I made more coffee. A lot more.

It was early in the evening before Dean perked up. "I think I found something." He squinted at the screen and started reading aloud. "Renowned artist Melody Rinninger found dead two days ago." He flipped his laptop around so that we could see the woman's picture in the article. "Burned to death. In her own home."

"Is that the other witch?" Sam asked. The woman in the picture had blue eyes, long brown hair, a slight build and a beautiful smile. She looked happy; this was obviously a professional picture, probably taken to help her better present herself in the art world. "Kinda looks like Ali."

"A little, maybe, and yeah, that's the witch. Apparently she'd been dead for a while when they found her. A neighbor called about a funny smell. Estimated time of death is... like two days after I saw her." Dean said.

"Then why am I not at full power?" Cas asked, sitting back in his chair and rubbing his neck.

"Good question. I haven't been able to find any footage of her on the roads or near the motels around Centerville." Sam said.

"So we have no leads and a dead suspect?" I asked. "Seems like Cas just needs a while to recover. Healing takes time."

"Maybe." Dean said. "I say we lay low for a while. The demons are probably planning on us going into town for a supply run eventually. If there are even demons around anymore."

"Sam said we should lay low too. I think that's a good idea." I said.

Cas sighed. "I have to agree. I'm still having trouble seeing your souls in their entirety, so I won't be able to warn of any approaching demons. We'll be safer if we stay out of any potential trouble."

"So… weekend at Bobby's?" Sam suggested.

 **A/N: Please review! I love hearing from you guys! Also, since I only post about 2-3,000 words a chapter, I'll be posting a few times a week from now on. Thanks!**


	22. Jailbait and GEDs

**A/N: Vivi here! This chapter's a long one. I'll keep the intro short since the last one was so long. Please enjoy and review the latest chapter of Internal Medicine, Jailbait and GEDs.**

I had no idea who Bobby was. Dean and Sam seemed to be all for going to his place and Cas seemed willing enough. They agreed, though, that we'd wait to leave until we made sure no strange happenings were going on in our town. An hour later, the strangest thing we found was an article about how a man who'd never purchased a lotto ticket before won big on his first try. No killings, no disappearances, no dead bodies found. There was an article about all the people we'd exorcised in the woods, but it claimed a gas leak made them hallucinate and wander out there. It even claimed they'd drawn the devil's traps. Unfortunately, three people had died during that incident; Dean explained how demons ride their vessels hard before jumping out. He said sometimes the people can't live without the demon because it's basically killed them already.

Sam heated up some soup for dinner and we watched a movie about cowboys on Dean's laptop. He only had one really bad coughing fit before the movie ended and we all headed to bed. They agreed that we'd leave in the morning, first thing. I packed my backpack the night before so I wouldn't forget anything; I wanted to spare myself the embarrassment of a suspicious red stain on my pants, since the flooding down south hadn't stopped quite yet.

"Goodnight Sam. Night Cas. Night Li." Dean said as he made his way to his bedroom. He was walking as if his own body weight was too much for him; the cold was taking a lot out of him.

"Night." Cas said, stretching out. He and I had laid on the floor with the laptop while Sam and Dean watched from over our shoulders in chairs. Dean had grumbled about needing a couch and a full size TV. We all agreed.

"Night Dean. Night Ali, Cas." Sam left too.

"Does it ever get really cold in here, Cas? Cold enough so that you can't sleep well?" I asked as I stood.

"No, I use both the blankets I have."

"Okay. How are you doing, ya know, with the whole grace-block thing?" I asked softly.

He hung his head and looked away. "It's difficult. If you had to go from being a powerful, immortal creature to a finite human, you would be in a better position to understand." He said rather bitterly.

"I had a demon in me for like half a year. Is that similar?" I asked, a little hurt by his tone.

"In a way, I suppose. But that wasn't you; I am an angel… I was an angel…" He trailed off.

"You are an angel, Cas." I said quietly, cupping his cheek to make him look at me. His eyes were sad and tired. "We'll find a way to get you back to your normal socially awkward, immortal, hyper-powerful self, okay? Just have a little faith in us." I smiled at him.

He gave me a weak smile in return. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here, okay?" I said.

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Cas." I said, turning to go to bed.

"Goodnight, Allison."

"You never told me you and your dad built your first car." Mark said from the living room. I put the casserole in the oven and joined him. He'd somehow found my childhood photo album amongst all the boxes we'd yet to unpack after the move.

"Yeah, an old VW bug. Drove hours to get the engine; it was the only one we could find in good condition for under like five hundred bucks. I loved that old car." I said, smiling at the picture of me in it, just after we'd painted it hot pink.

"So you built your own car and painted it pink?" Mark asked, chuckling.

I swatted his shoulder. "Don't laugh. I put every part on that car; I had every right to paint it my favorite color."

"Your dad didn't do anything?" He asked.

"No sir. He coached me through most of it, but he didn't turn one bolt on that old thing."

"I'm impressed. And here I thought I was the manly one with my intricate knowledge of oil changes and windshield fluid." He laughed. I laughed too; it was hard not to. Seeing him smile and hearing his laugh lit up my whole day. It was hard to take my eyes off of him, and my heart longed for him whenever I was away. He felt the same about me, and he told me often. When I moved away to medical school, he told me that he'd cried as if I had died. Those were the hardest months of our lives. I came to live with him on breaks and during the summer, but it was never enough. I only felt whole with him.

"I'll show you what I know some time." I winked at him.

"Okay, but you aren't gonna fit under our car for a while." He said.

"Yeah, yeah. Are you calling me fat?" I said with my hands on my hips.

"Love, I'm calling you pregnant. You're growing a human. They take up space." He kissed me and I rolled my eyes.

"Nice save, Mr. Ligan." I said with a smirk.

"Thanks, Mrs. Ligan." He leaned in for another kiss, but I moved out of the way.

"That's Student Doctor Ligan to you, mister." The next kiss landed right on my lips. I giggled. "Shouldn't you be unpacking?"

"Yes, but this album is mesmerizing. Just look at those chubby cheeks." He turned the album to a photo of baby me and my younger cousin in the bathtub together, surrounded and covered with bubbles.

"Mark, give it. That's so embarrassing!" I laughed and tried to get the album from him.

"No can do, Ali. This is all me." He smiled.

My eyes fluttered open and I reached over in bed for Mark. My hand was met only with scratchy flannel sheets. I felt another crack rip into my heart and threaten to tear it down. My eyes squeezed shut and I tried to stifle the sobs as they came rolling out.

I cried for a long time. Longer than usual. If I didn't have an adrenaline pumping, sprint from the dark nightmare, I had one of these blissful dreams that did much more damage to my heart. I really should have gone to see someone, but they'd need ID and I already had the murders of thirty-seven people on my record. It was more trouble than it was worth in my mind. I didn't really suffer when I was awake. I tried not to sleep a lot. Especially after one of these dreams.

The next morning the dirt roads that carried us away from the bunker lifted me the rest of the way out of my stupor, succeeding where coffee had failed. I was in the back of the Impala with Cas. Sam and Dean were up front, trying to pick which cassette to listen to. Sam would find one he liked and read off the title, and Dean would reject it. They must have gone through most of the box before they settled on one. The brothers tended to bicker like old men when it came to the little things. I ignored them and stared out the window for the duration of our six hour trip.

"What's up with her?" Sam asked Dean when we stopped for gas. They must not have known that the windows weren't sound proof. Cas was snoring beside me; maybe they assumed he'd drown out their conversation.

"I don't know, man. I keep hearing her crying at night. It slowed down after we got the demon out but… even when I was a baby and sleeping in her room, she'd wake up crying and just sob real quiet for a while. I heard her again last night." Dean said. I could hear concern in his voice.

"I haven't heard anything." Sam said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It-" Dean was cut off by a barrage of deep, rattling coughs. I glanced out the window at them; Dean was leaning hard on the roof of the Impala. He recovered a few seconds after the coughing stopped. "It's not my business. I don't know how to bring it up either. I don't want to start something that could end up hurting her more."

"I know what you mean. You two have a lot in common." Sam said.

"Yeah, more than I'd like to admit." There was a lengthy pause as the tank filled with gas. "Maybe Cas has asked about it. He doesn't have a filter, you know?"

"Yeah, maybe." The tank was full and the brothers got back in the car. I pretended not to notice them.

We arrived in Sioux Falls, South Dakota shortly before noon, according to the sign and clock. The name of the town was familiar but I couldn't place exactly where I'd heard it before. As we pulled onto a gravel road, an old fence jogged my memory. "Guys, where are we?" I asked suddenly.

"She speaks. We're in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. This is where our Uncle Bobby lives." Dean said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

"What's your uncle's last name?" I asked.

"Well, he's kind of our adopted uncle. Bobby Singer." Sam said. "Why do you ask?"

"Does he own a salvage yard?" I breathed quietly.

"Yeah, Singer Salvage. How'd you guess?" Dean asked, seeming rather confused.

"I built my first car with an engine that he sold me for cheap." I said, looking through the windshield, desperate to see the old sign at the entrance but also dreading the memories that would undoubtedly spill forth.

"So you know him?" Sam asked, surprise coloring his voice.

"You built your first car?" Dean asked incredulously. He coughed lightly and shook his head.

"Yes." I said.

I was fifteen and my Dad and I had driven all the way from Chicago in a borrowed pick-up truck. It was an eight hour drive one way; we sang so many old country songs as he drove that I had some memorized by the time we arrived. I had my learner's permit but I couldn't drive outside my home state of Illinois. We arrived in the late afternoon. The old gravel road made the truck bounce like crazy and the fence posts were so crooked they made me laugh. They seemed to be containing nothing but wild grass and weeds.

"You sure this is the right address, hun?" Dad asked.

"Yeah, I called like every junk yard in the tristate area and Singer Salvage was the only one with a VW engine in my price range." I said, looking again at the paper with the address, and then at the map in my hands. "This is the right road. Just a few more miles. It'll be on the left, I think."

We saw the old sign long before we had to turn into the drive. 'Singer Auto Salvage' was still legible, but most of the sign was pretty rusty. "Singer Auto Salvage." My Dad repeated as he pulled in.

We weren't the only customers, apparently. The old house was just off the driveway and an old tow truck rested beside it. Behind the tow truck was a slick, black, Chevy Impala. She looked old, but was she beautiful.

"Boy, if I could get my hands on that." I said as Dad pulled to a stop just off the driveway.

"Pick your jaw up, sweetie, you're drooling." Dad chuckled. "I'll go see where Mr. Singer is. Hopefully he has the engine ready for us. Wait here." Dad left the truck and went up onto the porch of the old blue house. It looked like it needed a paint job. Badly.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and put my feet up on the dash as I looked around. Lots of weeds, old rusted cars, some glass on the ground mixed pulverized concrete on the old paved drive. There was a machine shed out back with an open bay and some crooked plastic paneling making up one wall. I looked back to the gorgeous Impala. It sparkled in the light; someone obviously cared for it very much.

I glanced around the yard; no one would see if I just peeked in the windows. The truck was tall but I slid out without difficulty and landed firmly on some aged and cracking concrete.

All leather interior, shining wheels, not a scratch in the paint; it looked like a show car. "Hey beautiful." I whispered as I examined the grill.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you." A gruff voice alerted me to the presence of my father and another man emerging from the house.

"I didn't, I'm sorry." I said quickly, backing away with my hands behind my back.

"'s not me you should be worryin' about." The man wore a greasy ballcap and an old blue vest over a plaid flannel shirt. There was as much grease on his pants as there was on his hat, but his beard was well trimmed and he walked with a confidence that I aspired to.

I stuck out my hand. "I'm Allison Volta. I called about the VW parts."

He looked at me like I had three eyes, but shook my hand. "Bobby Singer. You wanted an engine, right?"

"Yes, sir." I said. "I've been looking long and hard."

"I'll bet. I gotta say, when I heard your voice on the line, the last thing I expected was you lookin' for parts for your own car." He walked past me and into the driveway. Dad came to stand beside me. Mr. Singer seemed to be examining his lot, looking for something.

"Doesn't he know where the engine is? They're kinda heavy to misplace." I whispered to Dad.

"He's got his nephews over at the moment. Told me they'd help us load it." Dad put his hands in his pockets and looked around.

Suddenly, a figure burst from behind a row of cars, sprinting through the junkyard with a long stick in his hand. Another figure followed close behind. The second figure used his stick to trip the first, sending the first into a roll. I worried about the broken glass that seemed to be all over the place, but the first figure seemed to be wearing a thick canvas coat. He rolled back into a standing position and took a swing at the second figure, which missed. Probably because his mop of hair was in the way.

"Are they trying to hurt each other?" I asked Mr. Singer. "Should we do something?"

"Nah, they're just bein' idjits. Sam! Dean! Quit with the melee and get over here. We have guests." Mr. Singer shouted. The boys looked up and immediately stopped fighting, dropping their sticks. As they walked over, the shorter one shoved the taller hard, making him almost fall over. They smiled and laughed, out of breath, as they came to stand with Mr. Singer.

"Boys, this is Mr. Volta and his daughter Allison. She's here for the engine I told ya about."

"The one in the back? By the lift?" The taller one said.

"Yeah. Bring it over, would ya?" Mr. Singer commanded.

"No problem, Bobby. C'mon Sam." The shorter one said, heading towards the shed with the taller falling in step right behind him.

"Won't they need help?" My father asked. "It's gotta weight like two hundred pounds."

"Nah, they're still young. Stringy and strong." Mr. Singer watched them walk out of sight. "Their daddy pushes 'em too hard for my liking, but I'll be damned if I won't take advantage of strong help these days. Now, what price did we agree on?" Mr. Singer turned to me.

"Five hundred even." I said.

"Good with me." He said, shrugging. I handed him the cash and he counted it before putting it in his pocket. "Think I'll take my boys out for dinner 'fore they move on."

"You said they're your nephews, right?" My Dad asked. "You must be very proud."

"Yeah, proud and a nervous wreck. The things they get themselves into…" Mr. Singer watched as the boys reappeared, my engine between them. They didn't even seem to be struggling with the weight of it, even though it was very dense. I ran to the back of the truck and left my Dad to talk with Mr. Singer. Dad always was a talker.

The tailgate was down long before they arrived with the engine. It was loaded up carefully before anyone spoke. "Thanks guys." I said, smiling.

"You," The shorter one smiled at me before finishing. "Are welcome." He wiped his hands on his pants. I could see that he didn't want to dirty his leather jacket.

"That's a pretty nice coat." I pointed out. "Looks comfy."

"It was my Dad's. He gave it to me a few years back. He gave me the car, too." The boy motioned to the Impala.

My mouth almost fell open and I laughed out of surprise. "That's yours? No way. How did you convince your Dad to give it to you? I have to build my own car; that's why I need an engine."

"He wanted an upgrade. Maybe Sammy will get the pickup he bought in a couple years." He smiled and elbowed his brother, who rolled his eyes.

"Who says I even want a pickup truck?" Sammy said.

"Well you're not getting the Impala. I'm Dean, by the way." He shot me another smile.

I smiled back. "Ali. Nice to meet you."

"So where are you from?" Sammy asked.

"Near Chicago. We drove like eight hours to get here." I said.

"Oh, so you're staying the night, then?" Dean asked, smiling one of the most handsome smiles I'd ever seen. Not that I saw a lot; the boys at my high school thought the straight A-mechanic-medical school bound girl with my name was too nerdy for them. I had a lot of friends but I hadn't dated a soul.

"Dean, jailbait." Sammy said softly through his teeth. I watched Dean's smile fade a little, but he didn't give up.

"I just want to get to know her. She seems like a cool gal." Dean winked at me.

I chuckled and twirled my hair. I smiled my most innocent smile and batted my eyes. "I'm fifteen."

That definitely loosened his smile, which went from charming to terribly awkward in a millisecond. "I'm twenty-one. So what? We can't go… joy riding for a couple hours?"

"Please excuse my brother. He's a little rough around the edges. I'm Sam." He put out his hand and I shook it. "I'm seventeen, also jailbait."

"Nice to meet you Sam. So, do you guys live here? With your uncle?" I asked, motioning to the house.

"Well, this is where we get mail, but we only stay here a few weeks out of the year." Sam said.

"Yeah, we're on the road a lot. For work." Dean said.

"Oh, okay. You're not in school, then?" I asked.

"Well, uh, I am. Just finishing high school. Dean's been out for a couple years now." Sam said.

"You graduated young then?" I said. "I've been trying to graduate early. I wanna be a doctor, so I have a long way to go still. I just want to be out of high school already."

"Doctor, cool…" Dean nodded, looking at the ground. His smile was very obviously fake now.

"He doesn't like to talk about school." Sam whispered to me. Dean smacked his arm.

"I got my GED, okay? Dad needed help and you were like ten. What else was I supposed to do?" He snapped.

"I was thirteen." Sammy corrected.

"Boys, don't corner the girl." Mr. Singer came around the corner of the truck and found us talking. "All loaded up?"

"Yeah." Dean said, walking towards the porch.

"What got his goat?" Mr. Singer asked quietly.

"GED." Sam said.

"Sam, don't poke fun at your brother." Mr. Singer shook his head. "Was a pleasure doing business with you Miss Volta."

"You too, Mr. Singer. Thanks again." I shook his outstretched hand and hurried to the passenger seat. I rolled the window down as Dad got in, and yelled, "Bye Sam, bye Dean."

Sam waved. Mr. Singer and Sammy went into the house and we pulled away. We were planning to stay the night about halfway home. I was so excited about my engine that I forgot meeting those boys for a long time. Dad and I discussed how to hook it up and get it running all the way to the hotel.

 **A/N: Review please and thank you!**


	23. Truck Stop Blues

**A/N: Vivi here! Welcome back readers! This chapter flows nicely with the last one. I actually had to break them into two chapters; they were originally one. I hope you enjoy it; let me know if you do! Review review review!**

Sam waved. I blinked a few times and looked at him. "What?" I asked, swatting his hand out of my face.

"You spaced out for a while. Everything okay?" Sam asked. I squinted at the bright sunlight pouring through the windshield as I looked at him again.

"Yeah, yeah, I was just remembering when I first met you." I shook my head to try and keep the horrible pain from appearing to rip into my heart again. If I could only squeeze my eyes shut hard enough, maybe I wouldn't have to relive Dad's murder. Regardless, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be weeping again tonight.

"Really. You remember that? You didn't come out of your room for like a week. I was pretty sure you had your eyes shut the whole time. We didn't really even introduce ourselves until, what, like ten days in?" Dean said, watching me suspiciously in the rearview mirror.

"No. Not after the demon. Before. About ten years ago." I said, searching the left side of the road for that rusty sign. "I came by for a VW Bug engine. You two loaded it in my Dad's pickup truck." I looked at them. They certainly had grown in the ten years since that day. But the Impala was just as beautiful. I'd even gotten my hands on it, I realized with a spark of glee.

"Wait, that was you?" Sam turned around to look at me with a smile. "Allison Volta? Your maiden name was Volta?"

"Yeah, you remember that?" I asked.

"Yeah. Man, Dean and I bickered about you for days. We were trying to figure out if you were really fifteen or not." Sam smiled hugely. "Were you really?"

"Sure was. I had my learner's permit and everything." I smiled.

"Told ya." Sam said, smirking at Dean.

"Seriously? You looked at least eighteen." Dean's face showed his frustration. "You really weren't kidding about being a doctor though, were you?"

"Well, back then it was more of a pipe dream to me. I mean, sure, I was smart, but my family wasn't exactly rich. My grandparents got me some old VW parts for Christmas a few years and that's what I used to start building my car. I got a job shortly after I finished my car. I needed a car to get the job. My family needed money to keep our house. I saved some and we kept the house. Mom and Dad got divorced and remarried a year or so later. We lost the house and they moved into apartments, which they could afford. I was devastated, of course, but determined to get away from their… drama. They fought a lot. I worked myself through college and met Mark. I got into medical school my first try." A sad smile graced my face and I laughed softly. "And you know the rest, I think. Or you can piece it together."

"You kept a roof over your family's head?" Dean asked. "That's a lot to put on a kid."

"You're one to talk, Dean Winchester." I said with a snort. "I wanted to do it. They didn't make me. It was good work experience. Helped me get into college. Anyway, are we almost there?" I asked, eager to move past this little trip down memory lane.

"About three more miles." Cas said.

"You've been there too?" I asked.

"Yes, many times. Sam and Dean resided there for a while after I met them." He said. "Bobby is a good man. Also a talented hunter and a 'mean' researcher."

It was only a few more minutes before we turned left into the old junkyard. 'Singer Auto Salvage' was written on a sign just a bit more rusty than I remembered it, but now the house was in serious need of a good paint job. It was still blue-ish though, at least. Dean parked the car to the house and we got our stuff from the trunk.

Dean knocked at the door while Sam and Cas were still at the car. I followed close behind Dean, slightly anxious about seeing Mr. Singer and having a debilitating flashback. The same man I remembered opened the door. His eyes locked on Dean and looked past him, then to where I stood just to the right of the door. "Where's Sam? He get turned into a girl?" Bobby eyed me up and down and I was slightly taken aback.

Luckily, Sam came up behind me and smiled. "Hey Bobby."

Bobby seemed to relax with both his boys accounted for. "Cas with ya, too?"

"Yeah, he's still under the weather." Dean said, pushing past the older man to get inside. I heard him cough as soon as he passed the threshold.

"Come on in." He followed Dean and motioned for us to make our way in. Once Cas caught up, we entered the living room. It was covered with stacks upon stacks of books and notebooks and newspapers. Even some places on the walls were covered; newspaper clippings, sketches, handwritten notes. Everywhere I looked there was something to see. It was like a children's find-it book on steroids.

"Thanks for letting us crash here, Bobby." Sam said, sitting down heavily on the well-used couch. It sagged a little under his weight. Cas joined him after picking up a book and began reading as soon as he landed. I snuck over quickly and sat down beside Cas. I didn't want to be out in the open in this strange house.

"Mi casa es su casa." Bobby took a seat behind a desk that was also stacked with books, leaving very little workspace. Absently, I wondered why there as a desk in his living room. His eyes met mine as I looked around and they narrowed like he was trying to read my mind. "This the damsel in demon distress you two been yammerin' about for the past few months?

"Bobby, this is Allison. Allison, Bobby." Dean reappeared with two beers in hand and tossed one to Sam who caught it easily, but winced at the pain it caused in his arm. He hadn't worn the sling today.

"Good to meet ya." He said, still eyeing me.

"You two have already met." Sam said after taking a long swig of his beverage. "She bought an engine from you ten years ago. Built her own car. We put it in her dad's truck when she picked it up."

Bobby shook his head. "If I remembered every part I'd ever sold there'd be no more room up here. Sorry, sweetheart."

"You remember when that Black Dog almost took my arm off and Sam was laid up with a busted leg for a few weeks?" Dean asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah… You passed out on my porch instead of going to the hospital, ya idjit. Poor Sam was half-dead in the backseat. I remember." Bobby looked slightly upset. "If you hadn't landed with that loud a thump I'd a found you both dead the next day."

"She was here two days before that." Dean said.

Bobby looked at me again and thought for a while. "VW Bug engine?"

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, we drove eight hours to come get it. My Dad and me."

"Huh. You were a lot younger then." He shrugged. "So what brings you fellas to my neck of the woods? You weren't sayin' much on the phone."

"Phones may have been tapped." Sam said.

"It's a long story. Point is, we think there's a witch, and a ton of hired demons after us, and they probably know we live near Concordia. We're a little outnumbered." Dean said, coughing lightly before lifting his beer to his lips.

"You think they're after you?" Bobby asked.

"Well, we found an article that said the woman we think is the witch burned to death two days after Dean saw her, but we weren't sure she was really dead." Sam said. "We thought it best to lay low and see if anything weird started happening back home."

"Well, you're welcome here as long as ya like. Beer's in the fridge. I don't have cake or anything though." Bobby said. "Just liquor and pork 'n' beans."

"Why would you have cake, Bobby?" Sam asked, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

Bobby looked at him for a long moment before looking at Dean. "Really? Has it been that bad recently?"

"Well, Dean was cursed for a few weeks and we were kind of buried in trying to get him back to normal." Sam was still confused. "Did we miss something?"

"Sam, your birthday is tomorrow." Bobby said. "Today's May first."

"How long was I a rug-rat?" Dean asked, clearly offended. "Seriously, it's tomorrow?"

"Yes. Get a calendar, you two." Bobby stood and walked out of the room.

Dean thought for a few seconds and shrugged, taking another long draw on his beer. "So Sammy. What are we doin' for your birthday?"

Sam chuckled. "Dean, since when have we celebrated birthdays? We don't exactly have the best track record."

"Oh, c'mon Sammy. We'll take you out, have a little fun. We can do whatever you want." Dean said, moving to lean against the empty desk. "We can start actually celebrating this year."

"Dean, I really just want to keep out of sight for a while. This whole witch thing was exhausting." Sam said.

"We should go buy fireworks." Dean said suddenly, grinning like child. "Eh? Yeah? You like fireworks, I know you do."

Sam smiled and shook his head. "Something loud and bright? Sounds like a perfect way to lay low."

"Fine, we'll go out then. Get some good food, find some good company…" Dean winked at Sam.

Sam snorted. "Dean, I don't want to go anywhere. Why don't we just… I don't know… watch movies tomorrow? We haven't had a movie marathon in a while."

"I'm down for that." Dean said. "Can we at least go get snacks?"

"As long as we're quick. I just don't want to be out for very long." Sam said.

Dean smiled and pumped his fist. "Hey Bobby, you still got that collection of Chuck Norris movies?" He left the room to seek out the old hunter, coughing the whole way. Sam shook his head and laughed softly.

"What's so funny?" Cas asked, not looking up from his book.

"Nothing. It's just that I can tell he feels bad after the past couple of birthdays I've had, but I'm kinda surprised that he actually wanted to go all out this year. We haven't celebrated our birthdays since…" Sam trailed off. "Since I turned sixteen, I think."

"Really?" I asked. "You guys don't even like, go out for dinner for birthdays?"

"Nah, usually we're either on a case or working up to one over my birthday; Dean actually died on my birthday a few years back. We just tend to ignore our birthdays. They're kinda… painful." Sam's gaze fell to his hands, cupping his beer in his lap.

"Why is that? I mean, I understand why yours would hurt you guys, but why Dean's?" I asked, leaning forward from my seat on the couch.

He shrugged but wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Dean and Sam's girlfriend had the same birthday. She passed away a few years ago." Cas said, still lost in his book.

"Sam, I'm so sorry." I said quickly, realizing that I'd just dug up some painful memories. I knew how bad those could get.

Sam shook his head and looked down at his beer again. "Don't be. It's been a long time since Jess died."

"That doesn't mean her memory has faded." I said softly.

"They're under the desk where they've always been, boy. Did ya even look?" Bobby grumbled. He and Dean returned from the other room.

"What's with sourpuss?" Dean asked, motioning to Sam. His head still hung and he hadn't noticed Dean and Bobby return.

Sam looked up and cleared his throat. "Nothing. I'm fine."

That made Dean stop his search for the movies and look right at Sam. "You sure?"

"Yeah." He finished his beer as Dean pulled out the small pile of movies. They looked old. Kung-Fu movies, from the pictures on the covers.

"Bobby, could I see your collection of books on binding spells?" Cas asked suddenly.

"Sure, but you gotta find 'em yourself." Bobby said. He sat back at the desk. Cas stood and began riffling through the piles of books around the living room.

I watched Dean and Sam go through the movies and reminisce for a while. Then I watched Cas dig through several piles of books and notebooks. My eyes wandered up to the walls after a few minutes. I noticed a rendering of a Wendigo and several that I couldn't identify. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar photo from a traffic camera.

"Is that… Is that my newspaper article?" I asked, standing. Sam and Dean stopped arguing over who was the greatest Kung-Fu legend and looked at me nervously. They both looked to Bobby after a few seconds. I saw Bobby glance up at me from the book he was reading at the desk.

"That's the one from a couple months ago. Cas called and told me he was going to follow a lead. I started a case file on ya in case anything went south." Bobby shrugged. "I like to keep tabs on my boys. Lost enough of 'em already."

"This… this is more than I was able to find…" I said softly, moving to stand in front of the stack of books that sat against the wall. My file covered more of the wall than I'd noticed at first. I'd spent weeks secretly researching those few days while Sam and Dean were away. Sam always took his laptop; Dean usually left his. The only things I was able to find were the things that they'd showed me a few weeks after they took me in, when I'd settled down a little. They showed me the obituaries of my family and the students I killed, the police reports, and the news report clip after I demanded proof that it wasn't all some hallucination in my head. I'd never seen some of the articles on this wall…

I heard one of the boys stand. Someone pulled me away from the wall, but not before I read the title of the article that was front and center. My breath started coming in short, rapid gasps. My face paled and tears sprang to my eyes. I was glad one of the guys had my arms held tight because my knees felt weak.

"Y-you never told me." I gasped. "It's been months. You never told me what happened on the day I blacked out?!"

"We didn't think it was a good idea." Sam said gently, pulling me towards the couch. "Bobby, we told you we were bringing her. Why did you leave that up?"

"I forgot it was there. Sue me." He growled before standing and carefully taking down all the papers pinned and taped to the wall.

"Wait, no." I yelped. "I need to see that."

Dean blocked my view of the wall as Sam set me down on the old couch. He held me there as I tried to move to see around Dean. "Please, I just need to see."

"Li, no. Hey, look at me. It wasn't your fault. None of that was your fault." Dean said softly. The sound of tape ripping off of the wall was all I could hear after he stopped talking.

My voice was barely a whisper when the first tears spilled down my cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me I killed everyone at a truck stop?"

 **A/N: Review please! Thanks!**


	24. Into the Night

**A/N: Vivi here! I'm glad I already had this written; that newest episode last night still has me reeling! Just a reminder, I only own the characters I create, the order the words are put in, and the plot-line behind this story, which has yet to be fully revealed. Hope you enjoy it!**

"How's she doin'?" I heard Bobby's voice outside the door to the guest room. They'd held me down on that couch until I was practically hysterical. I guess that's when they decided to lock me away in Bobby's spare room. Sam hauled me up the stairs since I was having no part of helping any of them. Bobby and Dean went in ahead of us and returned with a full duffel bag of guns, ammunition, and sharp things. Smart men. Sam set me on the bed and pulled a few blankets over me before leaving. I heard the lock turn and I was left alone for a few hours until Bobby arrived at my threshold.

"Bad. If you hadn't left those files up, she'd have been fine." Dean snapped. I had a feeling someone was outside my door at all times, but I hadn't known who it was. I guess it was Dean this time.

"Listen here, boy. I'm a busy man. Now I'm sorry for hurtin' your friend, but I ain't got time to go cleanin' house every time somebody shows up. You told me on the phone that it was gettin' better. This don't seem like better." Bobby said in a soft but stern tone.

"It is, believe me. The first weeks were mostly panic attacks and the fetal position. When we figured out she still had part of that demon, we thought taking it out would fix her. Turns out it didn't; not all the way at least." Dean said. "She gets over the nightmares and triggers faster now, though."

"Dean, why've you fellas been harboring her?" Bobby asked. "She's nothing special without that demon, is she?"

"Cas brought her and asked us to protect her." Dean said, coughing softly. "End of story. She's just as human and normal as you and me now."

"I saw your ring on her finger, boy. Is there something you ain't tellin' me?" Bobby sounded upset.

"She found it in the Impala and I told her she could keep it." Dean said. "There's nothing… touchy-feely going on, Bobby."

"So why haven't you, I don't know, turned her loose yet? It's not like you to take in strays."

"Bobby, that demon killed a lot of people in her body. If the police find her, that'll be the end of it. They'll kill her and we'd have her blood on our hands. And it's not like she's worthless. She's our friend. She knows how to research efficiently and come up with strategies. She makes a mean pie and she can cook to a man's heart. You should try some of her chili." I could hear a smile in Dean's voice with that last sentence.

"So she's like a maid to you boys?" Bobby asked.

"No, Bobby. Look, we don't make her do anything." Dean sounded offended.

"She jus' does all that on 'er own?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah. We're her friends too, Bobby. It's a two way road." Dean said.

I stood, unsteady on my feet, and walked over to the door. Pressing my ear to the wood, I could tell that they were talking just down the hall. Silently, I went to the window, which was letting in just a sliver of light. There were shudders outside that were closed. I slid the window open as quietly as possible and waited to see if Bobby and Dean would come rushing in. They just kept debating the quality of the Ligan-Winchester relationship. Slowly, I pushed the shudders open. I was honestly surprised that they swung out as easily as they had. My thought was that the hinges would be nearly rusted through by now.

From my vantage point, I could see all of the scrap yard. It was big, not the biggest I'd ever seen, but sizable. A few hundred cars, maybe, and the machine shed near the back that I'd seen before. From a distance they seemed to sparkle as they reflected the early evening light.

I was on the second floor, but there was a small back porch whose roof began just a few feet to the right of my window. I couldn't take their conversation anymore. It was wearing heavy on my heart to have to put them through an Allison breakdown yet again. I moved to sit on the window sill, my feet dangling about twenty feet above the weed ridden ground below.

Some days I feared dying very much. I feared the pain and panic that would accompany a not so sudden demise, and I feared the time it would take before my brain would finally stop working. Death was another matter entirely; I feared the judgement I would get after having killed so many people. I also feared putting the guys through the death of another friend. Some days I could see light at the end of the tunnel. I could see living a happy, albeit short and violent life with my friends by my sides. I could see helping more people than I'd hurt and making the world a better place.

Some days I just didn't care. On those days, I would focus on the moment at hand. I would breathe deep the musty air of the bunker or run my fingers over the rich wood and stone in the library. I would work myself to exhaustion doing chores all day or just lay around, reading demon lore. Today was one of those 'don't care' days.

After a few attempts, I managed to wriggle myself out the window and was holding onto the sill with my arms while swinging my legs up onto the porch roof. There was a gutter pipe between the roof and I, so I used that to get my upper body safely over my legs. The roof was sloped, but not too steeply. I sat down on the edge, maybe fifteen feet up, and felt my foot come into contact with a sturdy wooden post. Climbing down the post was easy; keeping out of sight of the windows from the first floor was more difficult. Sam was either downstairs or on a supply run. And I just wanted to have some peace and quiet for a while.

Once on the ground, I brushed the dust and dirt from the house off of me and fought my way out of the weeds and onto the pavement. My hands found their ways to my pockets and I wove between rows of cars, numbly trying to find a vehicle with mostly intact seats.

An old Cadillac caught my eye. The body was solid rust with a few flecks of red paint peeling off, but the door worked and the seats inside were mostly usable. It looked like it had been in a head on collision, so I sat in the back and closed the door behind me.

"Get it together, Allison." I said, pressing my hands to my face.

Twenty seven people had been at that truck stop when the demon attacked. No one had made it out alive. In fact, as the article said in the first few lines, no one knew that everyone there had been killed for a few hours because it was in the middle of nowhere and the demon had hidden the bodies in the freezer before leaving. Sam, Dean, and Cas had been right to not tell me what the demon did on the day I had no recollection of.

I felt my face get hot. There had to be some way for me to find that demon and kill it slowly and painfully. It was the only way I could find closure. Revenge was the only way.

Absentmindedly, I ran my fingers over the Wendigo claw scars on my shoulder. They were still puckered and red but they didn't hurt anymore. My leg, where the bullet grazed me, hurt but I ignored it most of the time. I found some comfort in the pain; it linked me back to the present so I wouldn't have to dwell in the past or future for too long.

How to find the demon… I didn't even know its name. Was it looking for me? If I compromised my warding, would it come to me? Part of me wanted to take up a piece of glass from one of the many shattered windshields nearby and ruin my tattoos. Part of me wanted to curl up in bed and just lay there for all of eternity. Part of me wanted to tell the guys how bad I really felt and seek help with my plans. Part of me thought all of this was stupid and that I should just tag along with them and hope that they won't make me leave.

I sat in the Cadillac for a few hours, stewing in my misery. Eventually I just sat back and watched the sunset through the window. Orange and red tonight. Mark's favorite colors.

As darkness fell, I glanced up to the old house and saw that my window was still open, undisturbed. The light was still dimly shining from the desk lamp, spilling out into the night. It would be a chilly evening. I was mildly surprised that the guys hadn't noticed my absence yet. They were probably used to me being quiet though.

The car door creaked as I opened it and stepped out. I strolled slowly through the rows of cars and eventually found myself walking up the main drive towards the front porch. I was nearly to the back of the house when I heard the front door swing open and hurried footsteps emerge.

Sam came running down the porch stairs. His posture made me think he was in hunting mode. I wondered why.

"Sam, you take the left side. I got the back of the house." I heard Dean speak from around the corner. Sam started jogging down the drive towards me, but he hadn't seen me yet. He was looking around at the piles of stacked cars that stood just as the driveway turned off the road.

"What's going on?" I called, hurrying my steps a little to close the distance more quickly.

"Ali?" Sam's eyes snapped to mine and he stopped on a dime. Dean came around the corner and moved to stand just in front of and to the side of Sam.

"What's happening?" I asked, walking closer.

"How'd you get out of that room?" Dean asked. His face just screamed suspicion.

I rolled my eyes. "I've told you before. You hardly know what I can do. I just climbed onto the roof and down to the ground. It's not hard."

They watched me for a few moments. "Why'd you leave?" Sam asked.

"Bobby and Dean were discussing me right outside my door and I got tired of hearing it." I said bluntly. Dean seemed surprised that I'd heard them. "Oh, come on, Dean. You weren't exactly keeping that conversation hush-hush."

"I get that you might not have liked the conversation but you jumped out a window to get away? Why? Why not just ask us to stop?" Dean asked.

"I didn't feel like it, okay? And I didn't jump, I knew what I was doing the whole time." I said, finally coming to stand in front of them. I wasn't surprised when Sam threw holy water in my face and Dean grabbed my arm to cut it with a silver knife. "I'm still me, guys." I said, wiping the water from my face.

"Li, how long were you out there?" Dean asked as we went back inside.

"Bobby, we found her. She's fine." Sam yelled as we entered.

"A few hours. I watched the sunset and did some soul-searching. You know, chick flick stuff." I said with a shrug. Dean rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen. He was going through the fridge when I heard heavy footsteps upstairs.

"Good." Bobby came down the stairs and stood in front of me in the doorway. I crossed my arms and met his gaze. "How'd you get out of that room?"

"Porch roof." I said shortly. "It was easy."

His eyes narrowed. "You were a medical student before you were possessed. How's a med student know how to do that?"

"I'm not just what you see on paper." I said, adding an edge to my voice. "My whole family was big on being prepared. I learned a few things along the way. Wilderness medicine, basic carpentry, calculated risks. I can even handle a gun." I said.

"You never told us you knew how to shoot." Sam said. I heard Dean start up another loud coughing fit in the kitchen. Everyone glanced over to the kitchen, which had a near perfect view of the living room, to see Dean doubled over, holding his stomach and supporting himself on the refrigerator door. "Dean, you okay?" Sam called.

He continued coughing, but nodded his head.

"You got a fever, boy?" Bobby went to him and pushed his palm against Dean's forehead. "Yeah. Go sit down. I got something for ya." Dean caught his breath and walked over to the couch, still holding his stomach. He looked miserable. His face was a mix of deathly pale and bright red patches, his eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and he walked like every movement hurt. I felt bad for him.

I joined Dean and Sam on the couch as Bobby did something in the kitchen. "Guys, where did Cas go?" I asked, noticing his absence for the first time.

"Basement, probably. Somewhere quiet." Sam said. "He's still reading up on binding spells."

"Here." Bobby came into the living room and handed a shot glass to Dean.

"What is it?" Dean held it up to the light. The shot had two layers to it: the bottom, filling most of the glass, was a clear yellow and the top was brownish.

"Honey and whiskey. It'll break your fever." Bobby returned to his desk as Dean downed the shot and winced as it started to burn his throat. "So the med student can shoot a gun?" Bobby asked, looking at me like I was lying to him.

"Yeah. Shotgun, paintball gun, hand gun; my Dad wanted me to be able to take care of myself." I shrugged. "I haven't gone to a range in a while, though. I'm a little rusty."

"Ain't there a range in that bunker? I thought I read about one in that journal." Bobby said, his gaze moving to Sam.

"Yeah." Sam said. "Dean and I use it all the time."

"You read each other's journals?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"No. I was at a flea market and found an old looking book. Turns out it was a journal, Albert Magnus'. Said he was 'Men of Letters'. I did a little research and found out they were a big deal a couple decades ago, but real secret-society like. The American chapter was obliterated sometime in the late 50s by demons. The journal mentioned a Henry Winchester, so naturally I dug up more info on him." Bobby said.

"He was our grandfather." Dean said, his voice a little hoarse. He coughed again.

"These two idjits happened to be legacies to the Men of Letters. We found out they had a stronghold in Kansas and it was still there when the boys found the coordinates. They moved in and let me have some peace and quiet for the first time in years." Bobby said, adjusting his hat.

"So… How long ago did you find out about the bunker?" I asked.

"Couple months before you moved in." Sam said.

"Yeah, we finally found a place of our own. Never thought that'd happen." Dean said. He was slowly losing his voice.

"'bout time, too. They were startin' to fray my last nerve." Bobby said in a gruff voice.

"We were trying to work a case-" Sam started.

"You two were having a friggin' testosterone pissing contest under my roof. There was so much angst and bitterness I was swimmin' in it." Bobby said loudly, silencing any possible retorts. "I was too busy keeping you away from each other's throats to help the other hunters."

Sam and Dean exchanged embarrassed looks and hung their heads without replying.

"Other hunters?" I asked softly. "How many more are there?"

"Well, there's not a registry, if that's what you're askin'." Bobby seemed to lose a bit of his steam at my question. "We're all over, workin' mostly in pairs or solo. Every hunter knows a couple others. You find 'em by word of mouth, or bumpin' into one on a case." He shrugged. "Probably a couple hundred out there."

"Wow…" I said, sitting back in my seat. When I first learned about hunting, I had thought that it was just Sam, Dean, Cas, and maybe a handful of others who were fighting the supernatural evil of the world. Now, knowing that there were many more than I'd ever thought possible, I was speechless.

Why hadn't someone killed the demon who took my life long before it got to me?

"Well, I'm beat." Dean said, standing slowly.

"Sam, why don't you let your brother have the couch tonight?" Bobby said. He too stood up.

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean sent him a triumphant grin. "Fine. Do you still have that bed roll?"

"Top shelf of the closet." I watched as Sam went around the corner and out of sight.

"Wait, where do I sleep?" I asked sheepishly.

"The guest room." Bobby said. "We may not be all fluff and manners but we do have some decency. Ladies first."

"What if I want to sleep on the couch? Dean's sick, he should get the bed." I said, standing.

"I'll let you three decide who sleeps where. I'm the only one gonna be sleepin' in my bed." Bobby said. He walked over to a stack of books, plucked one from the pile, and went upstairs.

"Li, I'm fine. Go sleep upstairs." Dean said. "I've spent more nights on this couch than I can count. It's an old friend."

"You're not fine, Dean. You've got strep throat and a fever. You're achy and miserable. Please, just shut up and let me be nice to you." I said.

He seemed taken aback by my blunt request and had to process it for a few seconds before replying. "Yeah, okay. If you're sure."

"Yes, I'm sure." I said.

"Okay… Let me know if you change your mind." Dean said.

"I won't. Go to bed." I said, patting him on the back as he trudged towards the stairs. I strolled back over to the couch and looked it over. The couch looked well loved; it was deep red, surrounded by books, pushed up against a set of dirty windows.

"Where's Dean?" Sam returned with the thick bed roll and several blankets.

"I sent him upstairs. He needs the bed more than I do." I said, sitting on the couch. Without two big guys on it beside me, the draft from the window was chilly; I shivered.

"Here." Sam tossed me a thick blanket.

"Thanks." I said, wrapping it around myself and basking in the warmth it provided. "So you and Dean used to live with Bobby?" I asked after Sam unrolled the mat in the center of the living room and turned out every light but the one beside the couch.

"Yeah, well, after Dad died we had nowhere else to go." He said.

"Right." I said softly. They'd told me that their Dad died to save Dean, but they hadn't mentioned how or why. It thought it better not to ask.

"Bobby practically raised us. We would stay here to go to school some years, when me and Dean were too young to go hunting." He lay down and stared up at the ceiling. "He always treated us like family."

"I see where you get it from." I said gently.

"Get what? The crankiness? The hoarding?" Sam smiled up at the ceiling and turned onto his stomach to look at me.

"The whole treating friends like family thing." I said. "I mean, I was a total stranger to you guys before that demon came all the way out. And within the past few weeks, I feel… I don't know. It's nice, whatever it is. Like I have someone to watch my back. Like I'm not totally alone in this crazy world."

"I know the feeling. I've had Dean as a brother my whole life. Whether I like it or not, he's there keeping me out of trouble. I can't imagine being totally alone for as long as you were." Sam said.

"It's hell." I said before snorting lightly. "Especially when there's a demon breathing threats and delusions into your brain and making you think they're your real feelings. That was awful." I shook my head before letting it come to rest in my hands.

"If you ever need to talk, I'm here." Sam said.

"I know. I'm not ready yet, I don't think." I lifted my head and forced a smile. "Good night, Sam."

"Good night, Ali." Sam said, moving to lie on his side.

"Hey, Sam? Did we ever figure out exactly where Cas went? I haven't seen him in a while." I said just before turning out the desk lamp.

"He's in the basement. I ran into him at the closet. It's never not weird when he complains about having to pee." Sam said.

"I know the feeling." I said. "Night, Sam. And happy early birthday."

He laughed softly in the dark. "Thanks. Night, Ali."

 **A/N: Review!**


	25. Strike Three

The next day Dean was no better, but we spent the whole morning watching Kung-Fu movies on a tiny, old television and fighting over a big bowl of bacon anyway. When that was gone, Sam and Cas went out for snacks and lunch while Dean, Bobby, and I discussed our current case and brought Bobby up to speed on what had already happened. He agreed that we should lay low and monitor the towns around Lebanon for suspicious activity for a while. When Sam and Cas returned, Dean discovered that no one had gotten licorice and threw a rather pitiful fit, nearly losing his voice in the process. Sam argued his case that it tasted like dirt and Cas just watched, claiming that licorice had not been on the list.

Eventually, we fell back in the rut of Kung-Fu master movies and ate the birthday boy's lunch of choice: take out from a local burger joint. Sam had a taco salad, but the rest of us had some of the best burgers I'd ever tasted. All in all, Sam's birthday seemed like a complete success. We ordered pizza for dinner and finished the last movie late that evening. When it came time to turn in for the night, the air from the window wasn't nearly as cool as it had been the day before. I was glad; the previous night had been a little too cold for my taste. Bobby commented that the temperature from yesterday had risen about forty degrees today thanks to a seasonal heat wave that was sweeping in summer quickly this year. Tomorrow was supposed to be even warmer.

I woke up sweating on the couch with the thick blanket on the floor next to me. The sun was out already but Sam, on his bedroll by the desk, and Cas, who had slept on a pile of blankets in the kitchen last night, were still asleep. Sitting up, I stretched out my aching arms and wiggled my toes. The couch cushions had some well-worn dips that most certainly did not match my curves. Not to mention that today was the final day Aunt Flo would be around for the month. I was uncomfortable inside and out.

I ran my hand through my hair. It actually wasn't too gross for not being washed in a few days. A cold shower would do me good; luckily, day five usually only bled in the morning and was done by noon. The hormones tended to linger though.

Several loud, unsteady footsteps came trudging down the stairs. Dean came into view in the kitchen. He had one tissue stuffed up each nostril and tired looking eyes. He glanced over at me. "Morning."

"Morning, Dean. How are you feeling?" I asked, standing. Joining him in the kitchen, I was careful not to wake the sleeping Cas on the floor.

"Better than yesterday." He grumbled. "Oh yeah." He pulled out a piece of cold pizza and took a big bite of it. "You?"

"Me? I'm fine." I said softly.

"Your bullet wound healing up?" He asked as he took another bite.

I felt blood come rushing into my cheeks. I hadn't told anyone about the bullet graze. "You remember that?"

"I was tiny, not dumb."

"Yeah, it sealed already. There'll be a scar, but it's beyond infection."

"And how's the rest of you feeling?" He asked, taking another bite.

"Fine, I guess. The claw marks are healing, the tattoo doesn't hurt anymore, my feet are normal again."

"So… no more bleeding?" He asked.

"What exactly are you asking me, Dean?"

This time he blushed. "Well, I had some blood on me when I turned back into me and it wasn't mine. Your bullet wound was covered in gauze. There's only one more place I could think of."

"It ends today, Dean. It doesn't hurt that bad anymore." I shrugged.

"Good talk." He turned and went to sit on the couch. I started the coffee machine and joined him. Sam rolled over as I sat down. "Morning, Sammy."

"You're up early." He grumbled.

"Hard to sleep with a fountain of snot as a nose." He said. "Anybody checked for freaky stuff yet?"

"No. Dean I literally just woke up." Sam said, sitting up.

"There was nothing as of six this morning." Cas said. We must have woken him; he was already standing in the doorway, the blankets of his bed neatly folded on the kitchen table.

"What time is it now?" Dean asked, looking at the watch that never left his wrist. "Ten already. Why is it so hot in here?"

"Bobby mentioned that today was supposed to be pretty warm. Seasonal heat wave's passing through." I said. "Maybe we can go outside today." How I missed enjoying the outside world. It was hard enough having to live in the bunker without sunlight for days on end, but being cooped up in a small, disorganized house for a few days was eating at me. I felt like a goldfish trapped in a bowl on a massive ocean beach.

"Got anything in mind?" Sam asked.

"I haven't been swimming in a long time. Is there a pool around?" I gazed out the window at the warm yellow glow that seemed to sit on everything. The sun was so bright today.

"Well, uh, we usually don't go anywhere where people can see our scars." Sam said slowly. "They ask questions."

"Yeah, or they wanna know about our tattoos." Dean said.

"Anything else in mind, Ali?" Sam asked.

"I really just want to go outside." I said.

"Why don't we check for freaky stuff and then go out?" Dean said.

We agreed on that plan and spent the next four or so hours combing through news articles, traffic reports, police reports, any kind of report from the areas within an hour or so of Lebanon, where the bunker was. Bobby returned from his early morning errand; we hadn't known he was gone. Apparently an old buddy of his needed help disposing of some evidence. I didn't want to know any more than that.

When we finally wrapped up our session, I was ravenous. And I wasn't the only one. Bobby elected to stay back, so the four of us piled into the Impala and drove to town. Lunch was nice. I missed just hanging out with the guys.

"I'm loving the fact that I can eat this without having to tie my hair back." I said as we chowed down at Mia's Diner.

"Sammy doesn't know that feeling, do ya?" Dean grinned at his brother, who rolled his eyes. The burger Dean had ordered was already gone and he was casually reading the newspaper while sipping some steaming coffee.

"It's not that long, Dean." Sam said. "Yours was longer at one point."

"Any luck with the binding spells, Cas?" I asked just before taking another huge bite of a BBQ bacon cheeseburger.

"No. I'm fairly certain that my only option is to kill the witch that bound my grace. And until we find said witch, I remain human." We paused our conversation until the waiter walked past and was far enough away to not hear us. The diner was nearly empty but the music they were playing was rather loud.

"Any hints on what kind of witch we're dealing with here?" Sam asked. "Anything stick out in the lore?"

"No. It takes a talented witch to bind something as powerful as grace but the witch could be anyone. We have no way of tracking it." Cas said. He sipped his coffee.

"We'll figure it out, Cas." Dean said. "In the meantime, I think I found a case. Couple towns over, people have been going missing while camping. Survivors are saying it was a big bear with glowing red eyes that took their friends."

"Werewolf?" Sam asked.

"Nah, moon doesn't cycle with the attacks." Dean said.

"Demons?" Cas chimed in.

"Red eyes fit, but how could they be mistaken for a bear?" Dean asked.

"Should we check it out?" I asked, unhappily letting go of my wish to do something outdoorsy today.

"Are you going to insist on coming?" Sam asked wearily.

"Why yes I am." I said, faking a smile and batting my eyes.

"I wanna see how you shoot before we go out on a case." Dean said. "We can't protect you the whole time and if you're going to come, you have to be able to handle yourself."

"Fine."

Back at Bobby's the guys set up ten beer bottles on the trunk of an old junker and gave me a handgun. "You got ten bullets. Eight out of ten hits gets you on the case." Dean said. "Any less and you stay here with Bobby until we get back."

I glared at him as he and Sam leaned up against a nearby car. "I don't even get a practice round first?"

"Nope. Do we have a deal?" Dean said.

"Fine." I took the earplugs they gave me and worked them into my ears. Hesitantly, I took the safety off and raised the gun to eye level, like my Dad showed me years ago. The first bottle was in sight and I took a few deep breaths, accounting for the soft breeze that occasionally gusted and moved the barrel just a fraction.

"Any time now." Sam said, his voice muffled by my earplugs. I pulled the trigger and stifled the recoil.

"Strike one." Dean said. I glared at the bottle. There was a fresh bullet hole in the rear windshield of the car, just an inch or so to the right of the bottle. I adjusted my aim and blew the bottle to smithereens. The peanut gallery behind me was silent. The next bottle, and the next joined the first.

"Damn it." I muttered as the wind pushed the barrel just a little too far to the left on the fourth bottle. I couldn't miss another.

"Strike two. One more and you're out." Sam said.

"I'm well aware." I said. I hit the fifth, six, seventh, and eighth without issue. On the ninth, I managed to nick the side, causing the bottle to shatter. But of course, I missed on the tenth bottle.

"Strike three." Dean said, retrieving the gun as I took the earplugs out.

"That was totally unfair." I said. "I haven't shot a gun in a long time, I'm rusty."

"Tell that to the demon-werewolf-bear as it's ripping your throat out." Dean said. "Is Cas packed up yet?" He asked Sam.

"I'll go check." Sam jogged back up to the house.

"You're leaving now?" I asked.

"It's only like three. Plenty of time to get started." He said.

"And I have to stay here with Bobby?" I asked. "I don't even know him, Dean. I don't think he even likes me."

"Bobby's good people. You'll get along fine." Dean wrapped his arm around my shoulder and squeezed. "I'll call every night, okay? Keep you posted."

"Thanks. I guess I'll be here, reading stuff." I crossed my arms and walked with him back to the house.

"Maybe work on your aim while we're gone. Bobby could show you a few things." Dean said, removing his arm as Sam and Cas came down from the porch carrying a few duffel bags. Bobby came down after them.

"Heard I was s'posed to keep an eye on this one." Bobby said, motioning to me.

"We'd appreciate it, Bobby. She's not ready to work a case yet." Sam said.

"How do you know?" Cas asked after he tossed his bags into the trunk.

"Bottle test." Dean said.

"The one your father used to do?" Cas asked.

Sam and Dean glared at him. "Yes. That one." Dean said.

Cas sent me a sympathetic smile. "It's a hard one to pass."

"Yeah, I know." I grumbled.

"Let's get going." Dean said, taking the driver's seat.

"Are you really going to take her out with a cracked windshield and a busted headlight?" I asked.

"Easy fixes, Li. We'll take care of it on the way. Call if anything happens." Dean said. "We'll keep you updated."

"Good luck." Bobby said. I just waved as the three of them pulled out of Singer Auto Salvage and left me alone with their father figure.

When they left, I had no idea what to do with myself. Bobby and I went back inside, he to his desk, and I to the couch. I decided to read up on red eyed creatures after Bobby suggested it. By seven, I was going stir crazy and the smell of the dinner Bobby was making was giving me a stomach ache. I grabbed my cell phone from my bag and went out onto the porch. Bobby followed shortly after.

"Dinner not agreein' with ya?" He asked, coming to stand beside me.

"It's not that. I just don't like to sit for that long." I lied through my teeth.

"Hey, I got a question for ya. Why are you still sticking with those idjits?" He asked.

My eyebrows kit in confusion and looked over at him. "They're my friends. And in case you missed it, I'm considered a mass murderer by most of the country. I don't exactly have a lot of options here."

Bobby looked at me for a long time before speaking. "Seems like this is your life now. You adapted pretty quick too."

"I didn't have much of a choice." I said, leaning on the railing. "I'm stuck between two worlds that both want to kill me, apparently."

Bobby nodded slowly. "Them beans are gonna take a while to simmer. Why don't you show me what your Daddy taught you with a gun?"

"You're going to help me pass Dean's test?" I asked. He reached behind him and pulled out a handgun similar to the one I'd taken the test with.

"I can't be babysitting you forever. And you seem like you can contribute somethin' to the cause." He put the gun away. "There's a bag of bottles under the kitchen sink next to the trash. Bring it along."


	26. Reunion

**A/N: Vivi here! I'm excited to finally reveal some big plot points in this longer-than-usual chapter! I hope you enjoy reading the latest chapter of Internal Medicine, called Reunion.**

For the next two hours, Bobby watched me shoot at old beer bottles and helped me hone my skill. I had just shot my first full ten when I pulled my earplugs out to get Bobby's report on how I was doing. I turned around, but Bobby was gone. He'd taken breaks during the two hours to mind the stove and check his phones, but he'd always announced his departure. Maybe I missed it?

I put the safety back on the gun and walked to the main drive through the scrap yard. He was nowhere to be seen. His old truck was still here, but there was also a new, strange vehicle in the drive. I started walking towards it when I caught motion from the corner of my eye. Turning to my right, I saw Sam sprinting full force out of a row of junkers. "Sam?" I called, totally confused. They'd left hours ago, and they hadn't called to report a change in plans.

"Allison, we need to leave, now." He shouted, still running at me. "Come on, get in the car."

"What's going on?" I asked. He came to stop in front of me and grabbed my arm.

"We need to get out of here. Come on." Sam started pulling me towards the strange car. The jarring motion made me drop my gun. Sam was looking around nervously as we jogged towards the car.

"But Bobby's still here. We have to get him." I said, panic starting to turn in my stomach.

"Dean's getting him. Hurry." Sam opened the strange car's rear door and shoved me in. He got in the driver's seat and pulled away from the house. I righted myself and buckled my seatbelt. Sam wasn't usually so rude or abrupt.

"Sam, aren't we gonna wait for them?" I asked, glancing back at the house. There was no motion that I could see.

"No. They'll figure it out soon enough. We need to get to our safe house." He said, glancing at me in the rear view mirror.

"You're abandoning your brother?" I asked incredulously. "What the hell, Sam? What's going on with you?" I lifted my hand to rest it on his shoulder but as soon as I tried to move it over the back of the front seat, a bright blue energy shocked me and I pulled my hand back reflexively. "What is that?"

Sam looked at me in the rear view mirror and smiled. His eyes didn't look right. His smile didn't look right. His style of speech was all wrong. "Magic."

"Not Sam." I gasped softly. I unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled feverishly at the door handle, but it wouldn't open. We were already off of the gravel side road and onto the highway; other cars were zooming by us in reverse it seemed. "What did you do to Bobby?"

"You should only worry about yourself." It said.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"I can't tell you because you'll just tell your sweet little angel."

"Why are you taking me?"

"Can't have that angel interfering with our plans, can we, Allison? You really think I'd tell you everything?" Not-Sam winked at me in the mirror. "The angel and Winchester team are quite the triple threat, you see, and my boss doesn't want anything coming between she and her goal."

"What is her goal?" I asked.

"If I told you that, you'd just tell them. Now quiet down; we've got a long drive ahead of us."

I sat back in my seat and prayed silently to Cas, letting him know what had happened, what road we were on, how sorry I was to have fallen for the ruse, and any detail about the car that I could remember. I apologized for screwing up yet another hunt. I was so panicked that I wasn't sure if my words made any sense, but I had to try anyway.

"What are you doing back there?" Not-Sam looked at me. "You're praying, aren't you?"

"What if I am? Whatcha gonna do about it?" I asked.

He took the steering wheel with his left hand and before I knew what was happening, he knocked me out with his right.

I was surrounded by gray. Fuzzy, out of focus grayness wherever I looked. A darker color emerged from the gray and paused in front of me. I was seated, I think, with something cold at my back.

"Yes, ma'am. You dislike finding new ones very much. I apologize for taking so long to locate her." I blinked hard to try and focus on who was talking. It didn't help much. "No damage was done by me. The Wendigoes you suggested did cut the shoulder, but it's nearly healed now."

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"I'll take down the warding right away, ma'am. You'll have no problem getting in." The voice sounded male, but it wasn't Not-Sam's. "I understand, ma'am. I'll keep the warding intact until you've finished your urgent business elsewhere. I understand that taking it down will prove problematic at this time."

Something hit my foot hard and I gasped.

There was deep, forced laughter from the darker color. "A very powerful demon. Can't find her own vessel and misses you so dearly that she offers me a place of power beside her once you've been reclaimed."

"…Fisher? But you're dead." I said, confusion sweeping through my mind. I saw the darker color fade away.

Suddenly, my vision was crystal clear. I was in a small gray holding cell with my hands tied behind me. I sat in a cold metal chair and my neck was sore from slumping forward. There was a big mirror on the wall in front of me; a one way mirror, no doubt. My whole head ached; I had no idea where the monologue had come from. I was alone in the room; I hadn't heard the metal door in the corner open or close.

I tugged at my restraints. Handcuffs, and they were tight. My skin was rubbed raw after just a few attempts at freedom. My legs were tied to the chair legs with ropes. I closed my eyes and swallowed the building panic in my throat. What had I gotten myself into now?

The door in the corner clicked open and I debated playing unconscious for a moment. Then I realized that whoever entered had probably been watching this whole time through that mirror. I looked at the entrant. It was Not-Sam.

"Who are you?" I asked, letting my anger through in my tone.

"I'm Sam. Your beloved Sammy." He smiled and sat opposite me in a chair I hadn't noticed earlier.

"No. You are not the Sam I know." I said, pulling once again at the handcuffs. "The Sam I know would never have shoved me and knocked me out."

"Aw, come on, Ali. What's a little roughness between friends? I remember your birthday. January 20th." Not-Sam winked and smiled again. "Let's talk about why you're here. But first…" He stood and pulled out a sizable pocket knife. "Let's take down that anti-possession warding, huh?"

"What? No, don't. You don't know what you're doing. I need that." I pulled madly at the cuffs and wriggled as far away from the approaching madman as possible.

"I know exactly what I'm doing. We're going to leave that location warding intact though. Boss said it'll come in handy later." He knelt beside me and lifted my shirt. One small sliver of skin through my tattoo was all he had to take to render my possession warding useless. I felt the warmth of a small trickle of blood ease its way down my side and drip slowly to the floor.

My eyes squeezed shut and I forced back the tears and mounting desperation. Slowly, like a soft tide on a cool day, the realization of what was happening made itself known to me. I opened my eyes; it was a difficult task as all my willpower and drive to live was seeping away from me with each passing moment. "She's here, isn't she?" I whispered. Blood leeched from my face as I looked at Not-Sam.

He smiled and I could see fear and devious pleasure in his eyes. "She's been waiting for you."

Weakly, I tugged at the handcuffs. I knew there was no way I could get out of them. I didn't have a lock picking set, a bobby pin, a paperclip; I was helpless in that sense. Pangs of guilt and loss swept over me as I remembered the last time I'd been with the demon. Surely she'd try to take away the only things I loved, as she had before. Maybe the only things I loved would manage to kill her before they themselves were ended.

'Cas, the demon hired shifters, I think. One of them looks like Sam. They took me from Bobby's and I don't know if Bobby is okay. Cas, I want you or the guys to kill me as soon as you see me. There's no way for me to get out of this now; I'm trapped and the demon is literally in the building. Don't take any chances. Tell them I said goodbye. I'll miss you guys.' I prayed silently with my head hung and my heart sinking.

Not-Sam sat back in his chair and rested his feet on the table. "Wasn't easy getting Winchester DNA, you know. If you hadn't brought the one into that clinic, we'd have never gotten it."

"How did you get their DNA at the clinic?" I asked, looking up.

"Well, Dean's was easy. That shot had plenty on it after it came out. Sam's was the hard part. We picked over Dean's clothes and through your bag until we found a hair. That was good enough for us. We only need a touch, usually, and then we can collect all the information about the fella from their brains. It's kind of our thing." Not-Sam smiled again. "Did you know that Sam is jealous of the way Dean treats you? It gets on his nerves that he calls you 'Li'. That he feels close enough to you to give you a pet name. And he's jealous that you know how to work on cars and he doesn't. He's frustrated that Dean never taught him. Lots of anger in this dude, you know?"

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, confused. None of it was going to matter in a few minutes.

"Just wasting time until Boss Lady finishes some other business. She wanted us to break your spirits, which is looking like an easy task. Says you were too feisty for her tastes last time around." Not-Sam stood and went to the door. He called out for someone whose name I didn't recognize. "My partner should be able to finish the job. Wouldn't want him to miss out on this fun." Not-Sam returned to his seat.

The door clicked open again and a familiar face entered. "Hiya, Li-Li." Not-Dean's smile was just a little too toothy. "How are your feelings today?"

I felt the bitchface settle hard on my face. "She said I was too feisty, huh? She just wants me to sit back and disappear this time?"

"That's the plan, sweet cheeks." Not-Dean said. "And we're doing our best to make it easy for her to… remove you."

"Like hell. I will not be silenced." I said. "She's already taken everything from me. I have nothing more to lose."

"Sure about that? Ya know, he's got ooshy-gooshy feelings for you, Li." Not-Dean said suddenly. "Would be a shame if your vessel were the one to kill him. Boss says she might leave them alone if you cooperate."

All I wanted to do was punch one of them. "Leave them alone."

"Fade away, Li-Li." Not-Dean said. "Let these miserable little boys have a few more years of life before one of us monsters takes them out."

"Yeah. It's not like you mean much to them. They left you practically unarmed and unguarded at the old man's house. They knew something big was looking for you and they ran at the first excuse." Not-Sam said. "Don't mistake their feelings for you as concern or love, Allison. Do you even know how little it takes to warrant feelings from a Winchester?"

"You just have to be in trouble. Something has to be after you. Or you could just have nice curves. Either one, and they fall." Not-Dean said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall behind Not-Sam. "You're all three. You're nothing special."

"You aren't my friends." I snapped. "I know them."

"Did you know that Dean tortured souls in Hell?" Not-Dean asked.

"Or that Sam let Dean take all the beatings when their father got drunk?" Not-Sam asked.

"How about the fact that Dean thinks of you as a burden because of all the stupid things you've done since they've know you?"

"What about Sam's hatred of his own life? This was never what he wanted and now he feels tied down because he doesn't want to leave you alone with Dean. He doesn't think Dean can keep you from falling off the bandwagon." Not-Sam stood and came to stand very close to me. He brought his face so close to mine that I could feel his breath. "He's noticed how close to killing yourself that you really are, Allison. He sees how much pain you're in and he hasn't done a thing."

"Are these chumps really your friends, Li-Li?" Not-Dean asked. "They don't seem like very good people to us."

"You don't know them like I know them." I muttered, fresh tears falling as all the new information sunk into my brain.

"You don't know them at all, Allison. You don't even know them in the biblical sense." Not-Sam said, returning to his chair.

"Shut it. Give a few minutes alone. To think over my options." I asked softly.

"Only if you end up choosing ours." Not-Dean said gruffly.

"How long until she comes for me?" I asked.

"Couple minutes, maybe. She just had to put down a few rogues." Not-Sam said. "We'll give you some time. By the way, this is the last day you'll see these mugs voluntarily. Let that sink in." They walked out and left me alone in the cold, gray room.

Was it worth it? Was surrendering to the demon and fading away into nothingness really worth the small chance that it would leave my friends alone? Would fading away… hurt? Or was it like freezing to death, where the process is slow but painless? Like falling asleep?

Could I even survive being possessed again?

I jerked at the handcuffs and felt a pulse of fresh blood leak from my wrists. If only Not-Sam had taken down my location warding as well… Not that I would have done me much good. It would have made it easier for the guys to find me, but then the demon would know that and prepare for it. She would kill them long before they had a shot at her.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be quiet. I'd gone days without speaking back at the bunker…

The door clicked open and I looked up to see who had entered. It was Not-Dean and Not-Sam. Another figure followed behind them. They held the door open for her.

"Hello, my pet." She said cheerfully. My brows knit together in confusion. The woman in front of me was the witch that Fisher had been working with. Her skin had boils and terrible burns all over it. The flesh on her face looked about ready to slough off. She was shorter than me, skinny, with blue eyes. Long brown hair.

"M-Melody? But you died, I saw the article." I stammered.

"Oh, no, darling dearest. That was their sister." She motioned halfheartedly to the Sam and Dean shifters behind her. They didn't seem happy about it. "I needed to throw you hunters off of my trail and a burned body that perfectly matched my latest vessel worked flawlessly."

My eyes grew wide. "You're…"

"I'm surprised you don't recognize me, sweetie." She moved to stand behind me and began playing with my hair. "I liked this much better when it was long."

I cringed from her touch. "Leave me alone."

"Oh, dear, but I've searched for months for you. Can't we spend just a little time together?" She whispered in my ear.

"We spent plenty together already." I growled.

"And we'll spend much more in that little head of yours." She turned my chair to the side to face her as if I weighed only a few ounces. "What's my name?"

"You never told me your name." I said, trying to hide the fear in my voice.

"Guess." She hissed in my ear.

"I don't know." I said.

"Guess." She shouted in my ear before standing and walking around the room. I winced as my ears began ringing.

"Allison?" I asked, thinking that maybe she took my name and that was why she was searching so hard for me.

"No. Guess again." She said in a lilting voice.

"Lillith?" I guessed. I didn't know a lot of demon names, but some came up in my research often enough to warrant memorization.

"No no no. That old gal was killed back in the middle ages by some Levite. Try again."

"Cain?" I asked.

"No. I've always been a woman, you silly thing. Why do you think I only take female vessels?"

"You never mentioned that." I said.

"I didn't? How rude of me. Allison, I am Francesca. In a past life, my husband killed me for sleeping with his brother and banished me to Hell. Hell isn't a very nice place, darling. You should be begging me to keep you away for the next few hundred years. Management down there is terrible nowadays."

"Next hundred years?" I gasped. "There's no way…"

"Oh, lovely, there is a way. I can keep you young and beautiful forever if I want to. And I do want to. I like your vessel very much. Unfortunately, I also want a strong vessel and you humans become brittle after a few decades even if you appear young. My favorite vessel was Carolinda; I had her for three hundred seventy years. Strong little thing at first. Then she became too weak. Can you imagine a three hundred ninety five year old vessel making a life of its own after I was done with it? But she did. I kept tabs on her."

The name Carolinda sounded familiar. It was such a strange name but I could have sworn I'd heard it before. "And you want to keep me for that long?"

"No, pet, I want to keep you for a thousand years, at least. And I can. I just need one more ingredient to cast a spell that will strengthen you into the finest vessel any demon has ever witnessed. Unfortunately, the last time we met, I hadn't been aware that it was already in the works. I cheated myself out of it, really. Didn't check first. I was too eager to rejoin the Volta bloodline. I checked this time though. We're all clear." Francesca smiled at me; it made her face move in unnatural ways. I was sure that her skin was about to fall right off.

Carolinda… That was my great-grandmother's name. Carolinda Volta. "Did you possess my great-grandmother?" I whispered. She'd died long before I met her. My grandfather, her son, had told me about her. She died of what they thought was cancer shortly after he was born.

Francesca's smile faded and she took my jaw in her hand, forcing me to look up at her. "Allison Melissa Ligan, daughter of Robert Charles Volta, son of Charles Volta, son of Carolinda Volta. Your bloodline and my bloodline are one. That is why we are so stable together." She released my face and horror colored my expression.

"So you're my ancestor and you're trying to possess me?" I asked, my voice revealing how disturbed I was with the thought.

"Exactly, darling dearest. And once I have you all to myself I can begin creating the last ingredient for my spell. After I have it and cast the spell, we can be together for a very long time, my love." She said.

"Why do you need to make the last ingredient? Can't you just go find it?" I asked.

"I've tried to find it. It is exceedingly rare these days. That witch, oh what was his name?"

"Fisher, Your Excellence." Not-Dean said quickly.

"Ah, Fisher. He suggested looking through clinical records to find it, but low and behold, he found you. Making it will be so much easier than finding it, I assure you. Even if it means we must be apart for a few months." She said.

"What is the last ingredient?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"The spell requires the blood of five-" Not-Dean spoke up but was quickly cut short by Francesca, who snapped his neck from across the room. Blood spurted across the one way mirror and I looked away, gasping in horror.

"That one always did like to speak out of turn." She said, glaring at his body as it hit the floor. Not-Sam tensed up but did not move or make eye contact with Francesca. "You don't need to know what it is, my sweet." She said softly in my ear. "You may try to take it from me if you know. It'll just be my little secret."

"Why can't I know?" I asked. "Maybe I can help you find it." And find some way out of being possessed for a thousand years at the same time…

"Oh, you will help me get it. You will have no choice. Now, please excuse me while I make preparations to preserve this vessel until she is needed again." Francesca walked over to Not-Sam and took his hand. He followed her stiffly out of the room, stepping over the body of Not-Dean.

I couldn't look at it. I saw her snap his neck with a snap of her fingers and I almost lost it. I knew it wasn't really my Dean, but it was so close, an almost perfect replica. I stared at the other corner of the room until they returned.

"Still there, lovely? Ah, good good." Francesca said happily as she and Not-Sam came back in. Her vessel, the artist named Melody, looked a little better than before; the skin was tighter, the boils not so pronounced. An IV stuck out of her arm and led up to a drip bag, which hung from a wheeled stand. Not-Sam carried an oxygen tank and a mask, which he set on the table. "I've ridden this poor vessel harder than I should have, silly me. She's not as strong as you, but she hasn't exploded yet, which makes her an asset. And she cast that binding spell on dear little Castiel and if she dies, he gets back on his pedestal and we can't have that. My dear shifter has promised to keep her safe for me until I return, cross his heart."

"You aren't going to let her die?" I asked. "She looks terrible. She's got to be in so much pain."

"Melody faded away weeks ago, darling. The vessel is all that's left. I do so hope you'll fade as quickly as she, but my hopes aren't too high. Carolinda took years to fade. She annoyed me so." Francesca massaged her temples. "I'd like to make a deal with you, love. If you stay quiet, I'll leave your beloved pets alone. If not, you'll feel the snap of every one of their bones under your fingers and I'll have them believe it's really you doing it when they die. Do we have a deal?"

I pursed my lips and frowned. "What do you mean by stay quiet?"

"No talking in my head, no thinking at all. No making any sounds while I'm in there. They get so irritating." She said. "We have a deal, then?"

"Don't hurt my friends." I said. My voice sounded like more of a whimper.

"Glad you're onboard with it, sweetie. Let's get on with it. Oh, how I missed this vessel." She rubbed her hands together and smiled hugely at me. I turned my head and closed my eyes, enjoying my last few moments of voluntary movement. Of voluntary breath. Of freedom.

I heard that evil black smog leave poor Melody's vessel, but I didn't look up. Something cold was pushing at my closed lips. After a few seconds, it overpowered me and Francesca took over.

 **A/N: Don't forget to let me know what you think of our main antagonist; that review button is just a click away and it means a lot to me!**


	27. Pints at the Pub

**A/N: Vivi here! Hope you're enjoying all this! So glad I have a lot written ahead; this is finals week, after all. I tried to post yesterday but I guess it didn't go through. Sorry, y'all! I left you at a bad cliffhanger. Anyway, enjoy!**

Francesca moved my head back into its upright position from where it hung. She breathed deep, using my lungs. She looked at Not-Sam, who was setting Melody's vessel, now as limp as a ragdoll, onto the table. He'd already put the oxygen mask on her.

"Cliff, dear, take good care of her, would you?" Francesca said using my voice. She tugged halfheartedly at the handcuffs and I heard a metallic snap. She'd broken the handcuff chain like it was crepe paper. "Your life depends on it." When she brought my arms out in front of me, they were healed. No bleeding wrists; only thin scars. She gripped the cuff of each wrist and tore the restraints off before rising and kicking through the ropes without hesitation.

"Yes, Your Excellence." Not-Sam bowed his head.

"And take off that ridiculous appearance. Find something shorter. I'll be back in a week or so." Francesca said. She began walking towards the door but stopped short. "Allison, you're thinking up there, I can hear you. Now I'm going to give you a second chance because I like you so. Do not think. Do not attempt to speak. And know that with me in here, your prayers to the fallen angel will not be heard." She rapped my knuckles against my skull. "I'd like to enjoy my new vessel for a bit, so I'm going to put you under. I'll wake you when the fun starts up."

She woke me and the fun started. I didn't know why I was moving at first. Then I tried to stop it and couldn't. Francesca was at a bar, one I didn't recognize, and she was flirting hard with a man who seemed more alcohol than human. She asked him to join her outside. It was cold outside and she didn't have a jacket on my body; there really wasn't much of anything on my body and in my head, I shivered. I was wearing a black, leather miniskirt and a red, strapless top that laced up the front with a length of black ribbon. I could feel thick lipstick pulling at the corners of my mouth and my eyelashes were huge. She'd caked me in makeup, it seemed.

The man didn't last long in the dark alley next to the bar. Francesca kissed him again and again, for a long time, and then broke his neck with my hands. I felt the snap. I could still see, hear, feel everything she did. I could even feel pain, heat, and cold. I just couldn't do anything about it. That poor guy…

As Francesca wiped the man's blood from her hands using his coat, she clicked her tongue. "Ali, dear, I can hear you again. I brought you out to enjoy the fun and you just can't shut up for five minutes." She sighed. "I guess I'll just have to kill the Winchesters." I felt my lips fall into a smile. "I've got a delicious idea on how to do it, too. But first, I'll have my fun here; it's been a while since I've felt so good and fresh. Your vessel just has me giddy, sweets."

"How do I stop thinking? How do I stop talking to you?" I asked in my head.

"How am I to know? Carolinda did it. You should have figured it out." She snapped.

Despair filled me and I backed as far into the reaches of my mind as I could get trying to silence the thoughts that I couldn't stop, trying for their sake. They didn't deserve to die at the hands of a demon. Especially not one that would kill them with my hands. I tried to shut everything out, to forget everything and disappear. It wasn't working.

A thought occurred to me after a few hours of trying. She'd already resolved to kill them. Why was I trying to be silent? I came back into her consciousness with a vengeance, taking in all the information I could about her: the way she spoke, the way she reasoned through things out loud, the things she said, where we were, and where we were going. If I was going to save them, I needed all the intel I could get.

My feet ached. She had somehow found a pair of above-the-knee, black, leather, go-go boots with a heel that had my toes at a very unnatural angle. We had been walking around the cold, dark streets of a city for some time before she found a group of rowdy men coming down the sidewalk towards us. I felt her smile again. "Since you're up again, I'll let you in on a little secret. Usually, I only kill men. It's my own way of getting back at my husband."

"Then why did you kill my whole family?" I asked in my mind. "Since you've already declared our deal void and all."

She sighed loudly and stopped walking. "I needed something from them. Will you be quiet now?" The men were almost upon us now. One of them had a large, fuzzy crown on his head that read 'Last Night of Freedom'. A bachelor party. He was getting married soon, I guessed. "How divine." Francesca whispered to herself. "I'll save her the misery."

For three days, all she did was kill and torture and flirt and drink. She couldn't get drunk, of course, but even trapped in my own head, I got hammered. I couldn't think or talk when she got me drunk.

On the fourth day, she walked into an apartment in a lavish complex and killed the man who was there. I noticed photos of the man and a woman hanging on the walls. Francesca took his phone and we found out that the woman was visiting friends for the week.

Francesca stuffed the man in the closet and made her way into the living room. The apartment had lovely wooden floors and thick white carpet, which was now stained red in a few places. Windows, floor to ceiling, adorned one wall and photos or pieces of art hung on every other wall. The furniture, a creamy off-white, was shoved out of Francesca's way as she examined the place. Eventually, she made her way to the bathroom. It too was lavish, floor to ceiling marble with a large, ornate mirror on one wall. There was a Jacuzzi tub and a large shower in addition to the normal bathroom features.

Francesca removed my clothing and stood curiously in front of the mirror, looking me up and down. It made me uncomfortable. "I looked like this at one time, you know. You have my eyes." She ran her fingers over the Wendigo scars. "I'll take better care of this vessel than you have." I was even more uncomfortable when she showered.

In the largest closet in the bedroom she found the woman's clothes, which fit me well. She dressed me and settled on a pair of ripped skinny jeans, gray flats, a dark green shirt, and a black leather jacket. I would be freezing later, I was sure.

"Now, where have those boys gone?" Francesca said to herself. She returned to the pile of clothes that we'd shed earlier. They were disgusting; covered in dirt and blood. From the pile, she produced a small, old cell phone. "These things used to frustrate me to no end, but now I find them rather convenient. Much easier than collecting the lifeblood of a victim every time I want to contact my men." She dialed a number and it connected right away.

"Your Excellence." The voice on the other end was not familiar to me but I guessed it was Not-Sam. He'd probably changed his face already.

"Have you found the Winchesters yet?" She asked, checking out her outfit in the mirror.

"Yes, Your Excellence." He said. Panic reverberated through my little space in my head. Francesca walked over to the sink and began riffling through the drawers below it. She found a small horde of makeup and was overjoyed.

"Where are they, darling? Don't be a tease; tell me." She asked, looking over her newfound treasures. Under everything was a box of blonde hair dye.

"St. Cloud, Minnesota." He said.

"Splendid. And how is my old vessel doing?"

"She lives, Your Excellence. The spell you had her perform on herself is keeping her alive while you are away. However, I would like to alert you that the spell is fading. It will only last about ten more days, at most."

"Keep her alive until I return or you won't be when I get to you." She hung up the phone and pushed it into her pocket. It was a tight fit. "We're headed for Minnesota."

A few days and several more kills later, we rolled into St. Cloud in an old van. Francesca killed the grimy man who'd picked us up and left him and the van several miles outside the city. The sun was already low in the sky. She'd been talking with her shifter and a few others, demons I guessed, who had been watching the guys for a few days already. The thought made me squirm. How long had we been watched before?

"Your boys don't even know you're gone, love." Francesca said quietly as we walked down the street. People were passing us, in a hurry to get indoors before nightfall. "I've got a shifter in dear Bobby's house who has been giving them bad information and false leads. He's been telling them you're too busy reading to speak with them when they ask."

"What happened to Bobby? The real one?" I asked in my mind.

She frowned. "I've got a shifter you looking for him. He killed a few of the creatures I sent for him before getting away."

Relief washed over me. Bobby was probably safe for now.

"But not for long." Francesca said. "My men tell me your boys have gotten discouraged. They've taken a shine to the pub around the corner the past few days. Practically living there, it seems. We're going to find them." She said.

"No, leave them alone." I shouted. Not being able to move or resist her movement was slowly killing me. If not physically, then mentally. I tried hard to stop her from walking forward, but nothing happened.

"Stop fussing up there. Be still." She chided. All of my energy was zapped and it was the most I could do to not go under again.

The sign read Sean's Pub in bright green letters. Francesca pushed the door open and a draft of welcoming warm air and the scent of alcohol and rich wood filled my senses. She looked around. The dimly lit pub was full of people, mostly men playing pool or drinking and talking with others. Francesca adjusted her jacket and tamed her newly dyed, blonde hair before moving further in.

"You aren't going to kill all of these people, are you?" I asked.

She shook her head. "That would be bad for both of us, dear. At least six of them are hunters."

"How do you know?"

"I can feel their anti-possession charms and tattoos from all the way across the bar." She looked around again. Several men were staring at her and not all of them looked friendly. She winked at the not so nice looking ones and they seemed to relax and return to their beers. "They aren't used to demons flirting with danger." She whispered to me. As she strolled towards the bar, she continued to scan the area. Finally, my eyes settled on a figure who was seated at the bar, a cold beer in his hand, shoulders slumped forward. "There we go." She was practically purring. I didn't know why. She'd found her next victim, I guessed. Maybe she'd leave my friends alone for the night.

Francesca walked up to the bar and took a seat next to the figure. She ordered a beer and I dreaded being silenced once again by alcohol.

"Hey." She said to the man.

The man turned to me and frowned before turning back to his beer. "Not in the mood." If I could have, I would have jumped in surprise. I hadn't actually believed that Dean would be in a bar alone while on a case. I hadn't seen Sam or Cas anywhere when we walked in. On top of that, Dean looked and sounded like he was still sick. My heart ached; he would've felt better by now if they hadn't left so soon. I would still be able to control my body, they wouldn't be on the chopping block…

"Sorry, I was just wondering what you were drinking. It looks good." Francesca said. She had changed my voice to be much higher in pitch than it normally was.

Dean turned the bottle around to show her the label. "There ya go."

"Thanks. So, what brings you to Sean's?" Francesca's new tone of voice was already starting to get on my nerves.

"I'm working in town this week and needed some time away from my coworkers." He said, taking another drink.

"Couldn't just leave the office?" She asked.

"Business trip. We're staying at the same motel."

"Not the same room, I hope." Francesca said, resting her right hand on his arm.

Dean sneered at it. "Look, lady, I'm not in the mood." He eyes rose to meet mine and he looked for a long time; I saw his pupils dilate just slightly after a few seconds. There was no way he could recognize me. Francesca had trimmed my hair even shorter, dyed it blonde, caked my face in so much makeup it was stiff, and then covered the scars and blemishes on my body with makeup to hide them too. The clothes were so different, the voice was different… I had little hope of being found. "What did you say your name was?"

"Francesca." She said, smiling. "Francesca Rimini. What's yours, handsome?"

"Dean Smith." He smirked at her before returning his attention to his beer. "No, it's not the same room."

"So how do you keep warm at night if there's no one to keep you company, Dean?" Francesca asked.

He laughed. I could tell he was already pretty tipsy, if not drunk. "I have my methods."

The conversation and drinking went on and on. All the flirting and lies were painful to sit through. I watched the clock from the corner of Francesca's vision and at around one in the morning, Dean left to use the rest room.

"What are you doing?" I asked frantically. "Leave him alone."

"I need him, darling, if only for a moment. Quiet down." She took another swig of beer. It was her fourth and I was feeling pretty terrible. She was fine.

"Can I get ya another, lady?" The bartender came over with a glass of water in his hand.

"No, this is fine." Francesca said in a harsh tone.

"Alright." The bartended continued walking but tripped on something and spilled the glass all over the bar top. Francesca had been holding the base of her beer bottle; her hands were dripping as the water flowed. A moment later a sharp, burning pain shot from my thumb up my arm and neck.

Francesca gasped and looked down to see the little silver ring from the Impala, still fitted snugly on my thumb. It was steaming. She hissed and ripped it off before throwing it across the bar. I heard it hit the wall, but then lost it. She cursed as the bartender apologized and wiped the water away quickly.

Dean returned a minute later and threw some cash down on the moist counter. "Let's get out of here." He winked at us.

Francesca resumed her facade of drunkenness, which had taken hours to develop as the night went on. "Anything you want, babe." She giggled as Dean put his arm around her shoulders. He called a taxi and we arrived at a typical, low rate motel a few minutes later.

My mind was racing and swimming at the same time. Francesca would kill Dean in front of me. Where were Cas and Sam? Were they okay? How could they leave Dean alone? What if the three of them had split up and Francesca could take them out one by one without them having any help?

Dean dropped the key to the door and retrieved it with a laugh and a stumble. Once he got the door open, we walked in as if we were drunk and plopped down on the bed. Dean shut the door and took off his coat. No one else was in the room. It didn't even look like Sam or Cas had been here.

"Come get me." Francesca said in a lilting voice. "I've been waiting all night for this."

"And I've been waiting all week for this." Dean said, the drunkenness in his voice completely absent. He raised his right hand and I saw the silver ring situated comfortably on his ring finger.

"O-oh. You found my ring, how sweet. I thought I'd lost it back at the bar." Francesca stood and started to go to Dean before stopping suddenly. She looked at the floor, which was thin, brown carpet. Then she looked at the ceiling.

A perfect devil's trap was sprayed in light brown paint on the dark brown ceiling. My eyes widened and returned to Dean. I could feel my body responding to her panic. I was glad she couldn't hurt him from here.

"Li, you in there?" He asked. I saw some of the hardness in his face fade as he searched my eyes for any sign that I was still home. I screamed and cried that I was still here. I pushed and shoved at my arms and legs to try and move them, but nothing happened.

"Little Ali's gone. I killed her, made her disappear. But you knew that would happen when you left her with the old man." Francesca smiled and crossed her arms before sitting back on the bed. "Really, taking her was the only way to put her out of her misery."

Dean's face hardened once more. "I'll get her back or kill you trying." There was a knock at the door. Dean opened it without taking his eyes off of me and let Sam and Cas in. They locked the door behind them.

"Ali?" Sam asked, his voice tense.

"It's the demon again. The one who was too weak to talk the first time we met." Dean said.

"What's its name?" Sam asked quietly.

"Francesca is what it gave me at the bar."

"And it was wearing the ring you gave to Allison? That's the ring I found at the bar?" Cas asked.

Dean nodded and showed Cas his right hand. "It's blessed, silver coated, iron core; get it wet and instant holy water. Demon must not have known."

"You wouldn't really kill me, Dean, would you?" Francesca said, letting my voice return to normal.

"You just said Ali wasn't around anymore. She's all that's keeping us from carving you up right now." Dean said, taking a few steps towards us.

"Maybe she is here, maybe she isn't." Francesca said. "You couldn't kill her vessel either way. You three are too attached."

"I wouldn't bet your life on that." Sam said. He pulled the demon knife from his coat pocket and it shone in the light. Francesca tensed up.

"You wouldn't hurt your beloved pet." She growled. "I know you hunters. You get attached to someone and when they turn on you, you look the other way."

"We started this mess." Dean said, his eyes as cold as stone.

"We didn't kill you when we had a chance. Now, we can right our mistake." Sam approached us with the knife and Francesca moved further away from him on the bed.

"I'll kill her before you can get to me." Francesca said. "I'll snap her neck if you pass that circle."

"No you won't." Dean said. "You won't be alive long enough."

What happened next was a blur. Sam lunged at Francesca, who dodged his attack, but Dean was right behind Sam and landed on top of me. He gripped my arms hard and moved behind me to hold my arms out of the way. Once they were secured by one of his arms, he held my head steady with his other arm. Would she really have snapped my neck while she was still inside?

 **A/N: Review if you liked it! Let me know if you didn't and what you'd change. I love the feedback; I'm actually incorporating some of it into the upcoming chapters...**


	28. Black Smoke

**A/N: Vivi here! Finally done with exams for finals week, so I'm posting another pair of chapters. Update on the length: longer than my initial estimate. It'll wind up being around 102,000 words. Yikes! And I'm setting it up to have a second story to follow up on the developing plot towards the end of this narrative. I'm almost done writing it on my computer... Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy it; let me know in the review box below!**

Francesca squirmed and shouted but Dean held tight; she was as weak as I normally was in this devil's trap. Sam towered over us, demon knife poised for the kill. Cas came over and stood behind Sam, his angel blade at the ready. "Exorcisamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-" Sam began reciting the exorcism they'd used the first time I was possessed. I cried out in my head as I anticipated the pain and burning that came with it. Francesca screamed as well and I felt my throat begin to tighten.

"Stop. I'll kill her!" Francesca yelled between desperate breaths. She started gagging and I saw a small plume of black smog leak from my lips.

"Keep going, Sam." Dean said, his voice a very controlled calm.

"Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion…" Sam continued, never lowering the knife. Smoke continued to pour from my mouth and Francesca choked violently. She began squirming even harder and suddenly kicked at Sam's hand.

The demon knife went flying and stuck hard into the ceiling. Sam looked up and Francesca breathed deep, pulling the black cloud that had gathered above my head back inside. I felt a smile settle on my lips as Sam looked back to her with panicked eyes. The knife had severed the outer ring of the devil's trap on the ceiling.

Suddenly, Sam was flying across the room, knocking Cas to the ground and hitting the wall hard. He fell on the small table, his hip landing with his full body weight on the edge of it. Sam cried out and fell to the floor gasping in pain. Francesca whipped her head around and instantly Dean was flying into another wall. I heard his body hit, then his head, with a sickening crack. He fell behind one of the two queen beds in the room and I lost sight of him.

"Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio-" Francesca coughed again and turned to see that Cas was standing now and rapidly approaching with his angel blade drawn. His eyes told me that he wanted desperately to exorcise the demon and spare the vessel, but if push came to shove, he'd kill her and me to save our friends. I was on his side, no doubt in my mind.

"No." Francesca gasped. She jumped from the bed through the window, crashing down onto the concrete outside. The glass stung and sliced at my skin but it didn't bother her at all. She coughed black smoke and began running down the road. As she looked back, I saw Cas standing in the parking lot and heard Sam cry out for his brother with torturous pain in his voice.

To see them like that… To have to go through it first hand and not be able to help at all… That was torture in itself. Of all the things she'd done to me in the past few days, that was the most damaging. I hated killing strangers and it wore heavy on my heart, but being helpless in a life or death situation involving my friends was literally killing me. That was part of the reason I joined the medical field. To protect my loved ones from things they could not fight alone.

Francesca ran for a long time. The black smoke finally stopped leaking forth and we caught a ride with a nice man in an SUV. He told us all about his wife and three daughters and how much he looked forward to seeing them today after a long day of work. I didn't know if it was pity or exhaustion that kept Francesca from killing him, but he dropped us off unharmed at a ritzy hotel in the center of town.

Francesca was on her phone the instant the door closed on our presidential suite. "Shifter." She growled.

"Yes, Your Excellence?" He sounded surprised at her anger.

"There was a devil's trap in the room, shifter. They nearly sent me back to Hell. Do you know how hard it was to escape the second circle, shifter?"

"No, Your Excellence." He said.

"It was like trying to walk out of a hurricane guarded by several hundred of Hell's most powerful watchdogs. Send me two demons; I want them at my hotel door in one minute. I'm going to have to plan out the next attack, I think. They were too ready this time." She paced the spacious suite, her dirty flats leaving muddy footprints on the white shag rug.

"Yes, Your Excellence." He said. Francesca hung up and swatted violently at a lamp, sending it shattering against a wall.

"Allison, you will feel each of their toes snap. Then every bone in their legs, then their arms, then every rib and finally, their necks. I want you to suffer until you disappear. I've tried to give you a fun last ride, but you and your friends have ruined it. I look forward to hearing you beg for their lives, and I look forward to ignoring those pleas." Francesca glared at the door as a soft knock interrupted her rant. She threw it open and there stood two men in suits, tall, with black eyes that flashed back to normal as they blinked. "It's about time. Get in here."

"Yes, Your Excellence." The first said.

"They knew I was at the bar and I didn't even see two of them. The angel found the ring that burned me and returned it to the short one without me noticing." She growled. "I want an ambush, eight men strong. They're injured now, and they'll probably relocate to patch themselves up. Find them, put flunitrazepam in whatever they're drinking, and let me know when they're unconscious. Do not kill them, or, if you must, at least leave me one. I need something from them before we dispose of them." She said quickly, pacing the length of the suite as the two demons stood at attention and watched her.

She paused and turned to look at them. "Did I stutter? Go!" They disappeared quickly.

"You won't be able to find them." I thought loudly. "They know how to cover their tracks."

"My men have been watching them since we identified them. I've had eyes on them the whole time they've been in town. Even if they do ward themselves, or whatnot, I've got demons tracking them, trailing them by sight. There's no way they'll escape. Your friends will be dead before dawn two days hence." Francesca said. She sat heavily on the white sofa that looked out a huge window over the town.

"Why can't you just leave them alone? Why don't we go start making that fifth ingredient?" I said, trying to sidetrack her.

A sickening smile crept onto my lips. "Why, darling, I need one of them to start the process."

"What do you mean? They'll never help you."

"They don't need to volunteer. They'll be unconscious."

"I don't understand. How can they do anything while they're unconscious?"

"My dull little vessel, I only need one little part of them to move forward. You see, the spell I want to cast on you is very involved and quite longsuffering. I need a griffin's tooth, angel feathers, three giant clam pearls, and the blood of five generations of one family to pull this off." She laughed lightly. "I've quite the little collection of blood now, thanks to your dear family. However, I'm missing one. Your angel took it from me, the naughty little cherub." She paused and I was too stunned to respond.

"You… you want…" I stammered, unable to think straight.

"Yes, darling. Don't worry too much, though. My men will keep you for me until there's enough blood for the spell. Then we'll be rejoined for many happy years to come. For now, though, you've been increasingly irritating. I'll wake you when the bones begin to crack."

 **A/N: Review please!**


	29. Like a Lamb to the Slaughter

**A/N: Vivi here! As promised, the second of today's pair of chapters. Let me know what you think of the ending of this chapter. I'd like to see some reactions. Enjoy!**

"Oh, Allison?" Francesca's voice, or my voice in a higher pitch, woke me from the deep, comatose unconsciousness that she'd shoved me into.

"What's going on?" I asked. She was walking down a gravel road, surrounded by trees. There was barely enough light from the moon for me to tell that there was a building a few hundred feet in front of us, through the trees.

"You were away for nearly a whole day. I'm so proud; you're well on your way to disappearing forever. I've only called you back for the breaking of the bones, dearest. I want to enjoy your reaction." She purred. We arrived at the building; it was an old, abandoned farm house. I wondered where we were that such a house would stand in such a forest. Certainly we were far from the city.

"What have you done?" I asked. She could tell I was terrified; there was no point in hiding it.

"I've only given orders. My men were the dastardly devils who put flunitrazepam in their beverages when they weren't looking." She laughed lightly, throwing her head back. "They thought they could outrun us and hide away, silly boys."

"Flunitrazepam… That's the super strong sleeping pill." I realized, digging deep back into my knowledge of pharmacology from med school. "Why did you knock them out?"

"Easier to deal with when they're snoozing their cares away." She said. We approached a man in a suit on the front porch. There were two men there, another around the side of the house that we'd passed earlier, and from what I could see, several more inside. Francesca walked up to the man and straightened his tie. "What's your name, demon?"

"Octavius, Your Excellence." He said, staring straight ahead.

"Octavius, what kind of operation do you think I'm running here?" She asked in a sickly sweet voice.

"Your Excellence?" He grimaced, not knowing how to answer.

Francesca flicked her wrist and the demon's neck turned to an unnatural angle. He fell to the floor. "I won't stand for messy dress, boys. No. Crooked. Ties." She glared at the other demon on the porch, who stood straighter and, luckily, had a straight tie. "Stand guard. Don't let any hunters within three hundred yards of this place."

"Yes, Your Excellence." The other demon said.

"Aren't you a lamb?" She smiled and entered the house. There were three more demons inside.

"Your Excellence, one of them isn't fully unconscious yet." A demon with sandy blond hair said as we strolled past the line of suits.

"I'll give him a minute. Go stand guard." With that, the demons left the house. There was no electricity; just the moonlight leaking through dirty windows. "I'm guessing you have already figured out what I'm planning to do in a few minutes."

"Yeah, I think I figured it out." I growled. "You're going to do this to me and then leave, and I'm going to either get away from your men or die trying. You won't get your final ingredient either way."

"Oh, I'll get it eventually. I'll just have to find another bloodline with four or five generations and wait it out if I must; that's why my dear witch, Fisher, was at the clinic. Trying to find more families like yours. The spell works on any vessel, bloodline of the donors or not. I'm just sentimental about you and your great-grandmother, and our family line. You know, dear Carolinda was silent for nearly three hundred thirty years. She snapped back after a few days of freedom, of course, after I wiped her memory, but she was delightfully quiet while I went about my business. I do miss the frail old thing." Francesca sighed. We were in the kitchen and she ran her fingers along the rough wood of an old table that sat along one wall. "I would even eat for her, occasionally. Things I knew she used to like."

"They've probably called other hunters to come help. If you know what's best for you, you'll run now before they get here." I said, adding what little strength I had left. Even staying awake was exhausting now. But if I could only get her away from them… They should wake up in a few hours, if only I could get Francesca and the demons away…

"I've more than enough demons to keep them at bay whilst I finish our business and get us somewhere safer. They've not arrived yet; I don't expect them to for some time if at all. And don't you think we've given those boys a long enough wait?" I felt a sickening smile settle on my lips as she doubled back to the staircase. Each step seemed to scream and cry out under our weight, adding to my dread.

"Cas will kill you. He's an angel, you know. He's probably on his way right now." I said nervously.

"My dear, he was the first to join the party." Francesca pushed open a door on the second floor and let me take in the view. It had been a kid's room, I thought, with pastel orange painted on the walls and three twin mattresses lined up. Then I saw them. The first thing I noticed was just how still Sam was. His head was bleeding; there was a small, red stain on the mattress where someone hadn't stopped it yet. His right arm was bruised and it looked like he was barely breathing. Cas was on the last twin bed, and he was nearly as still as Sam, but I could see his chest rise and fall every few seconds. Dean was on the middle twin; his head was lolling back and forth, like he was struggling to stay awake. "You know, it would have been so much harder to capture them had Deanie-dearest not popped a blood vessel in his brain when he hit that wall. Your angel fixed it and knocked himself out. Poor deary wasn't ready for such a power surge, it seems. My men didn't even have to drug him; he's been unconscious since the incident at that filthy motel yesterday." She smiled.

"Li?" Dean grunted, his eyes searching the room as he tried to lift his head. He coughed weakly and winced.

"Dean?" Francesca said, using my voice. She ran to him and knelt at his bedside. "Are you okay?"

"They drugged us." He groaned. "Get out before they find you. Find Ellen and Jo."

"Who are Ellen and Jo?" She asked.

Dean finally let his head drop onto the mattress to face us. He looked hard into my eyes and all at once, it seemed his strength was gone. "Not Li." His eyes slid shut and his breathing became as shallow as Cas'.

"Well poo. I was hoping to start a list for when you're finally forever mine." Francesca said in her own voice, standing and putting her hands on her hips. "Guess I'll just have to figure out who the hunters are all on my own." She walked to the end of Sam's bed and gingerly took his right shoe off.

"No, you don't have to. I'll be quiet, just don't-"

Crack. The sound echoed in my ears. Sam's little toe started bleeding and now sat at terribly unnatural angle. "If you stop, I won't try to get away." I gasped. "I'll sit in whatever hole you put me in until you come for me." If I could have, I would have been crying.

Crack. Another toe started to bleed. "Allison, this was your punishment, don't you remember?"

Crack. "Stop, please." I was mentally sobbing. "I'll do anything."

Her fingers wrapped slowly around the next toe. "Anything?"

"Yes."

"Don't try to wake up when I put you down and we may have ourselves a deal." Crack.

"Yes, just stop doing that."

"Well, lucky for me, his leg's already mostly broken. That was a nasty fall." She sneered at the hunter and took a few steps back. "Won't be long until that compressed nerve in there dies and renders the leg useless."

"Just don't break any more bones, Francesca." I said forcefully. "Or there's no deal."

"Fine. I won't break any more bones. Our deal stands." She smirked. "There are other ways to kill a hunter."

"What? No, you can't kill them. You need them, you said so."

Her smile felt so wrong on my lips. "I only need them for a moment." She looked over her prisoners like a wolf taking in helpless lambs. "Good night, Allison."

"No!" I screamed, finally digging myself back in consciousness. We were in the front room of the house; Francesca was talking to the suited demons.

"Dispose of them so that no hunter will find their remains. Where are the others?" She barked. Remains? What had I missed? No, no…

"Patrolling the grounds, Your Excellence."

"Bring them in. I want to address all of you at once." The suited demons left and Francesca made her way back up the stairs. "I thought we had a deal."

"You were going to kill them. That wasn't part of our deal." I said.

"No, it wasn't. Leaving them alive was never part of our deal either, lovely. I have what I need. And we have a few days before I must depart. I hope you enjoy the color gray. That cell is where you'll be staying for a few weeks." She said.

"Why are you going back to that room?" I asked quickly, dreading every step she took.

"I knew you'd be back to break our deal, so I had my men leave them alive until you came to. Honestly I was getting worried you wouldn't show up again. You were under for nearly an hour."

"An hour?" I repeated, shocked. It felt like only the blink of an eye.

"Yes. And now I get to kill your friends. But only after every bone is broken, of course." She giggled and pushed open the door to reveal my friends, now even more bruised than before, like someone had taken a baseball bat to them while they lay helpless. Huge, swollen, purple blotches lay strewn over their arms and faces; I was sure there were more under their clothes. Hopefully she hadn't ruptured any major blood vessels or damaged an organ.

Something inside me seemed to change suddenly, like a rope snapping under pressure. I closed my eyes, in my mind, and let the wave of raw emotion wash over me; I did not let it get to me. The wave was gone quickly and I reopened my eyes to see my friends in a life or death situation. This was my calling. This was what I had been training for my whole life. To be calm in the face of death.

And to defeat it.

"No." I thought calmly, focusing hard on what I remembered feeling when I was in control of my body. The feeling of the muscles pulling at tendon and bone. The feeling of taut skin as it moved over my joints. The feeling of air rushing into my lungs and the relief it brought. I focused on pushing what was left of me back into my fingers and toes.

"What are you going to do, move me?" She cackled, holding my hand out in front of my face. "You're powerless, just a vessel, darling. Sit back and enjoy the show."

My index finger twitched. She focused my eyes on the digit and stopped breathing. "Submit to me, vessel. I am far more powerful than you are."

"We'll see about that." I gathered all the strength and determination I could muster and shoved myself back into my arms and legs.

"Stop, no." Francesca gasped. I took control of the rest of me and stumbled forward a few steps, catching myself on the edge of Sam's mattress. She was clawing at me, still in my head, and it hurt worse than anything I'd ever felt before. She screamed and growled in her own voice, not mine, which was much more shrill and terrifying.

I stood quickly, not sure how long I'd be able to hold her back, and made sure they were still alive. Everyone had a pulse; that's all I cared about. I dug through Dean's pocket and found two of his cell phones. Shoving them into my own pocket, I walked calmly down the stairs and found a group of suited demons waiting patiently, standing at attention, in the front room.

"Your Excellence, these are all our men." One man said. No one looked directly at me. I was sure they could still see Francesca inside me, but they might not know I was in charge at the moment.

"Report." I barked in her sickly sweet, high pitched tone.

"No sightings of hunters or policemen, Your Excellence. All clear." Another said.

"Listen up. I've just had a delicious idea. I want the humans left alive; they'll be a fun hunt in a few days. I've got all I need now, so why not make killing them a tad more enjoyable?" I faked her giggle and sighed. "So if any demon comes close to them, they'll end up like poor what's-his-name out there on the porch. Sound good, dearies?"

"Yes, Your Excellence." They barked in unison.

"Splendid. You are dismissed; we've no need to stay around here any longer." I walked out the front door and listened hard to each set of steps that followed. Relief began to show on my face; luckily, they were all behind me and I reined it in quickly.

"Your Excellence, we have a car waiting, as you requested." One of them said suddenly. I turned around just as a black SUV pulled around the corner of the building and into view.

"I'd like a few more private moments with my vessel. Go on without me. I'll call if I need you. And don't call me, darling. I'll call you." I said, trying to sound as condescending as she would have.

"Yes, Your Excellence." I strolled down the driveway and watched two SUVs drive past me. All the demons were out of the house and down the road, out of earshot and out of sight. I stopped in my tracks and frantically pulled out one of Dean's phones, wincing hard as Francesca tried to tear my brain apart.

"911, what is your emergency?" A woman's voice answered on the first ring.

"I don't know where I am and my friends got knocked out and some guy dragged them into an abandoned house." I gasped, trying to hold back the sobs as Francesca sliced madly at my mind.

"Stay on the line; I'm going to track your location. Do you need more than one ambulance as well as police?"

"Yes, all three of them got really beat up. One of them has a broken leg and a pinched nerve; you've gotta get him into surgery as fast as possible, he's bleeding pretty hard. They were drugged. Flunitrazepam." The tears began to flow both from pain and panic.

"Stay calm, ma'am, we almost have your location. Can you tell me who attacked you?"

"It was a guy with sandy blond hair. I-I…" I debated on whether or not to tell them what had happened in simple terms. I decided against it, opting for a more believable story. "I think he killed himself on the porch. My friends are upstairs, I can't wake them up."

"Is there anyone else there who wants to hurt you?"

"No."

"Are you still in the house?"

"No."

"Then I need you to stay with them, okay? We have your location, as long as you're on the phone. Police and paramedics are on their way." The woman was very calm and supportive, but she couldn't have understood what was going on.

"I can't stay with them. I have to leave." I said. "I'm going to leave the phone in the driveway. Don't… Don't come looking for me."

"No, ma'am, you need to-" I set the phone on the ground. The woman was yelling for me as I ran as fast as I could down that driveway and then down a road I'd never seen before. I was surrounded on both sides by forest. This looked nothing like the town we'd been in before.

After a few minutes of sprinting, I started to hear sirens behind me. Good. Help was on its way and hopefully I could hold Francesca until they got away. I hoped that after the upcoming bend in the road there would be a hill I could run down; I was getting tired fast.

I skidded to a stop and froze as a police car, sirens silent, pulled around the corner and bathed me in light. Without a moment's hesitation, I dove into the forest and continued running away from the house amongst the trees, parallel to the road. I heard the car stop and the door opened.

"Stop. Police." The officer yelled. I stopped running and hid behind a large tree. "Come out here with your hands where I can see them."

I focused on quieting my panting and keeping Francesca down. Her fervor had not waned in the slightest; if anything it was getting stronger. She was ripping at the wall I tried to put up. I wouldn't last much longer.

"Come out now." The officer yelled. He was closer than before, and was now approaching with a flashlight, the beam of which rested on a large tree to my left. I looked around; it was probably dark enough that I could get away if I was quiet. I squatted down slowly and grabbed a stick from the ground at my feet. Standing, I waited until he was nearly at the other tree before throwing the stick as hard and far in front of him as I could. It crashed into the leaf litter on the forest floor with a loud thump and lots of rustled leaves. The officer turned away from me to find the source of the noise and I ran for it.

Then I noticed that his car was still running. "Stop, police!" He must have turned when he heard me run, but I was already nearly at the cruiser. I heard a gunshot reverberate through the trees and ducked behind the car, getting in as fast as I could. Slamming the door, I shoved it in gear, floored the gas, and was barreling down the road away from the house before he even reached the road.

I drove for as long as I could. It was a good fifteen minutes, but I could feel when she started to take over again. It started in my left hand. Numbness and then involuntary twitches. Then my left foot had the same sensation. It moved behind the gas pedal where my right foot was still pressing hard and pushed it up, forcing me to slow down.

"You'll never take them." I growled, desperate for a way to protect my friends. Francesca had nearly taken the whole left side of my body. Then I remembered something I'd come across while researching binding spells with Cas. A binding link that could be put on a vessel. Carefully, I moved my right leg up to the wheel to keep the car on the road while I lifted the right side of my shirt and jacket. With my fingernail, I sliced the mark into my skin. It was messy and I was bleeding, but when I completed it I felt a pulse of some kind of power. The mark worked. Now, neither Francesca nor I could leave this body.

As my last act of defiance against my demon, I gripped the steering wheel tightly, pushed the gas pedal to the floor, and took the cruiser directly into the trees.

 **A/N: Review please! Only takes a second!**


	30. A New Perspective

**A/N: Vivi here! Big news, y'all: I finished this story today! Don't worry, there are still a lot more chapters to post, but I've finished writing it out. This chapter is called A New Perspective for a reason, so don't get confused. Hope you enjoy!**

Dean opened his eyes and slowly took in his surroundings. His mind felt very foggy. For a moment, he wasn't sure if he had a hangover or a concussion.

"Sammy?" He grumbled. Dean tried to sit up but something tugged against his face. He tore the thing away and looked at it. It was an oxygen tube that had been stuck up under his nose. He looked around again; he was in a hospital. There was an IV in his arm that he ripped out shortly after finding as well.

"Lay down, sir." A nurse came rushing into the room and attempted to push him down against the bed. "You won't be able to stand for a few more hours. You OD-ed."

"Get the hell off of me." Dean said, pushing the man away. "OD-ed? On what? Did I get alcohol poisoning or something?" Dean coughed; the cold hadn't gotten worse, but it hadn't gotten much better either. It was starting to really annoy him.

"No, the police said someone drugged you and your friends. We're treating you and them for flunitrazepam overdose, but you have to stay still for a while. The drug isn't out of your system yet. Do you remember your name?"

"Yeah, Dean Smith." He said automatically.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, the nurse's hand on his shoulder, and tried to remember what had happened. He remembered getting the demon from the bar to the motel and nearly exorcising it. Then it got loose somehow and threw Sam. It threw him too, and he got knocked out. He came to with Cas' hand on his head, but then Cas passed out. He got Cas in the backseat of the Impala and helped Sam into the passenger side; Dean was sure Sam's leg was busted but he wouldn't go to the hospital. Sam thought there would be demons there, waiting for them. They drove for a couple hours and found an abandoned house that was far out of the way to hole up in. An old safe-house of Dad's. He remembered taking Cas inside and putting him on a bed, then taking Sam inside. Then he came out for the cooler and he and Sam had a few beers while trying to figure out their next move. Then, nothing.

"How did the police know where we were?" Dean asked, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Well, apparently some lady called in about you and left the phone so the police could track it. Said some guy, who they found dead on the porch, drugged and kidnapped you three. They think the lady who called stole a patrol car a few miles down the road. They're still looking for her. Was she a friend of yours?" The nurse removed his hand, seeing that Dean could sit up by himself.

"I- I don't know. You said my other friends are here? Tall one with long hair and one with dark hair and trench coat?"

"Yeah, they're in the next rooms. Neither one is awake yet. I can't tell you much more. Can you give us their names?" The nurse shrugged sympathetically.

"Yeah, Sam and Cas. Hey, listen, they're my brothers. I need to know if they're okay."

"Brothers as in, blood or fraternity?" The nurse asked.

"Blood, they're my family." Dean said gruffly, resisting the urge to cough. "Are they stable at least?"

The nurse frowned, debating whether or not to believe his story. When he thought about it, they did share some characteristics; tall, darker hair, similar builds. "Yeah, they're stable. Nothing wrong with the dark haired one aside from some bruises, but the tall one just got back from surgery. Something messed up his hip pretty bad. All the toes on one foot were broken too."

"What was the surgery for?" Dean asked, instantly concerned for his little brother.

"Well, x-ray showed a pretty hefty dislocation, but no broken bones in his hip or femur. The surgery was to fix his toes, put his dislocated femur back into the socket, and try to save a nerve that was being compressed by his femur. The surgeons just submitted their report. They think they saved the nerve in time, but they're not sure. His reflexes were virtually nonexistent when he came in. We'll know more when he wakes up."

Dean took a moment to absorb all the new information. What if Sammy couldn't walk again? What if he was in pain for the rest of his life? For the first time in a few months, Dean began to think about thinking about retiring from hunting. They could find an out of the way cabin and live a relatively normal, apple pie life. "Okay. Thanks." Dean's voice was quiet. The nurse smiled sympathetically.

"Those kinds of injuries usually take a couple months to heal. In the meantime, we're going to have all three of you stay here for a few days, just in case you get withdrawal symptoms. With this drug, those can be fatal. Just sit back and try to enjoy the down time. Push that red button if you need anything. I'll be checking in every fifteen minutes or so." The nurse pointed to the red button on the side of his hospital bed and left.

"A few days?" Dean grumbled. He looked down and noticed he was wearing a hospital gown. "Seriously?" After another survey of the room, he found his clothes in a clear plastic bag on one of the chairs. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

He stumbled over to the chair and pulled his clothes out. They were dirty and bloody; he was surprised the hospital hadn't thrown them out. Blood on the jacket, shirt, pants… underwear? That was weird, but it was only a little. Dean shrugged and put the clothes on anyway, making a mental note to change as soon as he could find new duds.

After dressing, he quietly stuck his head out the door and looked around. No one was in the hallway or at the nurse's station across from his room. Dean slipped out and shut his door behind him.

Cas' room was next to his. He was sleeping, as Dean figured he would be for a few more days. He remembered Cas healing him in the motel; Cas wasn't ready for that kind of exertion. Aside from a few bruises, he looked okay.

Dean found Sam in the next room over and ducked inside as a nurse left a room down the hall. His little brother lay unmoving, a tube down his throat, bandages on his head and arm. Dean went to stand next to him and carefully lifted the sheet just enough to see a massive cast covering his foot. There was another cast that started just above where the other one ended and went all the way up to his abdomen, holding his right leg in position. Dean frowned. How could he have let this happen? And where did all the bruises come from? They hadn't been on Cas or Sam when they arrived at the house.

Curious, Dean looked down at his own arms. Similar bruises were splayed there and, as he explored a little more, on his abdomen too. "The hell happened to us, Sammy?" Dean whispered.

Out in the hall, there was a commotion. Someone had noticed his absence. Dean left Sam's room and power walked, still a tad unsteady, down the hall towards an exit sign. As he reached the outer doors of the hospital, a code brown was issued over the intercom.

It took a little effort, but Dean managed to get his bearings and steal a car. He made it back to the house they'd stayed in and got his gun out of Baby, who was hidden in the backyard in a dilapidated shed. He opened the trunk and pulled out a clip of devil's trap, silver bullets. The bullets would kill almost anything he came across and trap any demon; the thought was hardly comforting. He grabbed a set of engraved handcuffs as well, just in case. As he shut the trunk, a strong coughing spell had him doubled over. Miserably, he spat out a huge wad of green mucus and tried to ignore the burning in his throat.

Dean didn't know what to expect as he walked up onto the porch. He noted the blood stain from where their supposed assailant had supposedly killed himself. The front door was open. There was nothing remarkable about the house aside from the blood stains on the three beds upstairs. One of which he remembered putting Cas on.

As he walked back out of the house, he noticed something shining in the driveway, reflecting the afternoon light back at him. Upon closer inspection, he found it to be one of his cell phones. Both had been missing from the hospital bag with his clothes; he thought they'd just been lost in the rush to get everyone in the ambulances.

Dean put the phone back in his pocket and walked to Baby. Once they were on the road again, a thought occurred to him. He pulled off onto the shoulder and called his cell phone company. After a little convincing, they turned on the GPS in his other phone and told him the coordinates. Dean pulled a map from the glove box and found the coordinates; they were a few hours from his current location, where he had never been. Either his other phone was possessed, or someone had taken it.

"Alright, Baby, let's see who has my phone." Dean said softly as he pulled the Impala over to the shoulder. They'd arrived at the road nearest the coordinates the cell phone company had given him. He was surrounded by trees and there was a deep ravine on one side of the road a little ways further. He popped a cough drop, acquired from a gas station along the way, and resisted the urge to hack up a lung. With his gun held ready, Dean entered the forest and kept his eyes peeled for any movement.

The trees were huge way out here. Squirrels drew his attention with the rustle of any leaf or twig. Dean soon lost sight of the Impala. As he approached the coordinates from a few hours ago, he took more care to stay quiet. There was no sign of anything suspicious at those coordinates. He stopped for a moment, looking above him, in the tree canopy.

Nothing there. Just leaves and squirrels. The trees around him yielded no clues. He decided to turn back and regroup, maybe call the company again when he had a better signal. That was when he noticed the trace of blood on a tree he'd just passed. Peering further into the forest, he saw the same smudge on most of the trees going in a semi-straight line right through the coordinates he'd just arrived at.

Dean followed the trail to his right, gun drawn, adrenaline pumping, mind clear from distractions. The trail became progressively more winding and unsteady as he went on. Perhaps a half mile later, he arrived at the lip of the ravine. There were traces of blood going down its side; the ravine was steep, but climbable. Whatever had left that blood had probably fallen down the side. A lot of dirt and leaves were displaced along the fall trajectory. Dean traced it with his eyes and finally saw a bloody figure attempting to climb the other side of the ravine. It was about a hundred yards away; Dean took the shot without hesitation.

The figure slumped and fell a few yards down the side of the ravine. Taking care not to fall himself, Dean made his way down the ravine and began climbing to where the figure had settled.

"No…" He said as he approached the figure. A feeling of panic hit his gut like a baseball bat and he started climbing with renewed vigor. "Li?"

 **A/N: Review please! Thanks!**


	31. Bobby's Other Other Other Cell

**A/N: Vivi here! Sorry it's been longer than normal for a post; this weekend has been crazy. I'm glad so many people 'liked' the ending to the last chapter! Let's get the plot a-rollin' once more. Please review and enjoy the latest installment of Internal Medicine titled Bobby's Other Other Other Cell!**

The unmoving form of Li lay face down in the leaves. Her hands were covered in blood; the right side of her jacket and pants were stained red. Dean approached slowly, thoughts flying through his head. He'd shot Li? Had he killed her? Was she dying? Was that even still Li? Perhaps this was an ambush by the demon… He had to be careful, just in case.

As he prodded the body with a stick, no black eyed demon jumped up ready for a fight. He took out a flask of holy water and sprinkled some on her hand. It steamed and bubbled, but there was no reaction from the demon within.

Dean noticed that his shot hadn't hit its intended mark. "Thank God." He whispered as a wave of relief washed over him, making his knees a little weak. The bullet hadn't hit her heart; it was sunk deep into her calf. Dean thought that the bullet probably knocked the demon out for a while. Just in case, he clipped the handcuffs behind her back and flipped her over.

Li's face was just as Dean remembered it, but streaked with blood and caked in makeup. He grimaced and shook her shoulder gently. "Li? Are you in there?"

No response. She still had a pulse though. That was good.

Dean picked her up and started walking for the road, which was easier to walk back on than the forest route. The road wasn't too far to his left, but he was out of breath and slightly dizzy by the time he set her in the back seat of the Impala. He guessed that the drugs weren't all out of his system yet.

"I'm gonna finish this, demon-bitch." He growled. The bunker was a few hours away, but it was the only safe place to get Li back.

Once the demon was locked away in the dungeon, still unconscious but now trapped in the full size devil's trap, Dean went to the library to make a few calls. It was late in the evening by then and he was tired. The drugs were definitely still in his system, he could tell. He'd had dizzy spells and random bouts of confusion all the way back to Lebanon. As a dizzy spell came and went, he pulled out his phone and punched in a number he'd memorized just hours earlier.

"Nurse's station." A female nurse answered after like the seventh ring.

"Hi, yeah, I'm looking for an update on my sons. Sam, Cas, and Dean Smith?" Dean said, letting his head rest in his free hand. He felt terrible for leaving Sam and Cas alone, but he needed to find the son of a bitch who did this to them. When he left the hospital, he assumed the demon would stay away; it had run last time, with smoke coming out of it. Now, knowing that it was the demon who had drugged and beat them, he was on edge.

"Just a sec… You said you're Dad?" The nurse said.

"Yeah, the nurse gave me this direct line earlier." He said, hoping to earn the woman's trust and get the information he wanted.

"Oh. Let me get their nurse. Hold on." The phone line went silent for a few minutes before springing to life again.

"This is Nurse Daniels." The man said, sounding hurried.

"Hi, I'm looking for an update on my sons. Sam, Cas, and Dean Smith?" Dean said quietly.

"Right. Well, we didn't have your number or we'd have called you earlier. Dean has gone missing. We think he left the hospital a few hours ago without checking out. Your other sons are stable, but they're still unconscious. We're transferring them to the Step-Down unit tomorrow morning. No need for them to be in the ICU any longer. We're not seeing any major symptoms from the drugs they ingested."

"Good, good. Thanks. Hey, when do you think they'll wake up?"

"Could be a few hours or a few days for your dark haired son. We don't know who is who, by the way. Which of your sons has the dark hair?" The nurse asked.

"Cas. That'd be Cas."

"Thank you…" Dean heard some papers being shuffled in the background. "Cas should be waking up sooner than Sam. Sam had a pretty major surgery; he was under anesthesia for it."

"Okay. Keep an eye on them for me, would ya?" Dean said.

"Yes, sir. Is this a good number for us to reach you at?"

"Yeah, this is my cell. Keep me posted."

"No problem. Anything else I can help you with? Any more questions?"

"No, thanks. 'preciate it." Dean hung up and dialed another number, hoping it would work. He'd tried almost all of Bobby's phones after the demon attacked them in the motel room. The Bobby who answered at the house phones just didn't sit right with the guys. They assumed he wasn't the real deal. When they tried to call Li, there was no answer at all. That's when they knew the demon had gotten to her. It was planning to use her to get to them, they were sure. So they stayed in the town where they were working a case and made themselves vulnerable. Dean volunteered to be bait. Their gamble had almost paid off; he got the demon into a devil's trap at least.

The phone rang and rang. No answer. There was only one number left. Bobby's other other other cell. Someone picked up on the second ring.

"What?"

"Bobby?" Dean asked, surprised to hear the voice of his father figure.

"Who is this? How'd you get this number?" He snapped.

"Bobby, it's Dean. What's going on?"

"Dean? You boys okay?"

"Yeah, well, kinda. Sam and Cas are in the hospital but they'll pull through. I captured the demon; it's in the dungeon at the bunker." Dean said. He was so relieved to hear Bobby's voice that he was having trouble thinking straight.

"Well I'm glad to hear about the demon, but what happened to Sam and Cas?" Bobby asked. "Last I knew you three were investigating some missing campers in a backwater town."

"We were, but then something was off when we called you. We couldn't get Li to answer either, so we assumed the demon got to you and her. She prayed to Cas but we couldn't understand what she was trying to say. We set up an ambush for it. Got the bitch in a devil's trap and everything was going swell but somehow she broke out and, long story short, Sam just had hip surgery, Cas healed a bleed in my brain which put him out, and the demon came back and drugged us. Bobby, I don't know how we made it out of there alive. One minute we were trying to plan our next move and then I wake up in a hospital and Sam's unconscious and Cas is out too..." Dean felt his face get hot. "Bobby, the demon is in Li."

"Slow down, son. Let me get this straight. You left your brother and the angel alone and unconscious in a hospital to track down a dangerous demon who you can't kill because it's in another friend, alone?"

"Yeah." Dean breathed. "I guess I did." His voice shook a little and Bobby picked up on it immediately.

Bobby's tone was much less harsh as he replied. "What are you going to do about Allison?"

"I don't know Bobby. I can't kill the thing without killing her and I can't let it loose again." Dean said. "It's got a thing for her. It could come back as soon as we send it down."

"I'll see what I can do. What are you doin' about Sam and Cas?"

"I talked to a nurse who said they won't wake up for a while. I don't think I can leave the demon alone, Bobby. It's a strong son of a bitch. Took a devil's trap bullet to take it down."

"You shot Allison?" Bobby was surprised. When they were at his house, he noticed how the guys treated her. Dean in particular was very protective. He sat outside her door the whole time she had her meltdown, even when Sam offered- even begged a little- to take a shift and give him time to sleep.

"I didn't know it was her. Again, long story." Dean rubbed his neck. He remembered that the bullet was still in Li's leg. Bandaging it up would probably be a good idea.

"Be careful what you do to the demon, boy. Cuz it's gonna be on the girl to heal up afterwards. 'specially with Cas like he is." Bobby said slowly. "I'm headed your way. Been on the road for the past few days since a shifter you beat the snot outta me."

"Shifters? What were they doing in Sioux Falls? Working with the demon?"

"Don't know. But one with your ugly mug kicked my ass before I killed it, and I saw one that looked like Sam drivin' away. I rolled out when I saw one of me in the house with a couple more in suits behind it. Allison was gone; I looked for her, boy, I did, but she wasn't there." Bobby felt bad for leaving his property before confirming that the other shifters didn't have Allison, but he was outnumbered and barely made it out before they saw him. In his defense, he had searched the salvage yard portion where he'd seen her last. He'd only been fighting the shifter Dean for a few minutes before Allison was gone.

"Probably something to do with the demon. Bobby, could you go to the hospital instead of coming here and stay with Sam and Cas? Or bring them back? I got a gut feeling that something isn't right." Dean said. He had been uneasy since waking up, like there was something he was supposed remember but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Sure, but be careful with that black eyed piece of work. I won't bury you again, Dean."

"Got it. Call if there's any news."

"You do the same. And Dean, I'm gonna look around and see if there's a way to save the girl and kill the thing too. Don't do anything stupid until I get there."

"Okay. Thanks." Dean hung up and set the phone on the table. He waited a few minutes for his eyes to stop burning and his face to cool off. In the fridge was a welcoming case of his favorite brew; he gladly took the distraction, although the alcohol irritated his throat and made him cough more.

A while later he stood outside the door to the archive room that hid the dungeon. The whirlwind of anxious thoughts began once more in his mind. What if the demon had already broken her so badly that she really was gone? Or that she would die as soon as the demon was out? And even if she could recover, what if, while trying to get information, Dean himself hurt Li so badly that she wouldn't make it once the demon was gone? He knew he'd have to get answers from the demon before getting rid of it, but if he had to torture… Visions of Hell threatened to consume his mind but he pushed back and they subsided after a few tense moments. Dean was sure he wouldn't do that to Li. She was special to him.

Before they realized that she had a demon the first time around, he'd thought of her as a kind of sad puppy. Cute at times, but needy and difficult to take care of. He liked her, she was nice enough, but keeping her from hurting herself was a job in itself. If Cas hadn't asked he and Sam to take care her in, they'd have left her with Bobby or Ellen, or let her go about her business alone. Bobby was right; they didn't usually take in strays.

But since they got the demon out, she was… Something else. Rebellious. Confident. Kind. The woman commanded a certain degree of respect. She was so good with Sam and Cas was her best friend.

Dean let his head rest against the door and sighed. He hadn't gotten to spend much time with Li; by the time the demon was out and she was her real self again, he and Sam had gone to investigate the disappearances in Centerville. The Wendigo dragged him away and tied him up, the lady witch beat him, the guy witch turned him into a baby. He remembered how terrifying it was; everything was so much more vivid when he was small. It felt like he'd walked on those chubby, unreliable legs for hours before he found the crack in the wall. Then he fell in a hole and was making peace with his fate when she appeared in a blinding light.

Most of what Dean knew about Li had come from his time as a baby. When she took him up out of the freezing dirt and put him in her jacket, he'd practically melted. Three days of shivering and hunger faded as her body heat leaked into his very bones. He actually had no memory of the escape; there was no way he could have stayed awake any longer. Being so close to her, he felt completely safe. And he remembered, later on, she put him in a car seat, which drove him crazy but in retrospect was another way of keeping him out of danger. She was with him all his waking hours when he was little; they were practically inseparable. He even slept in her bed with her a few times, when his cold had him completely miserable and blubbering like a baby. Sam would wake to him sobbing quietly in the pen, a snot covered mess, and take him up into bed with him after cleaning him up. That worked most of the time; Dean was comforted more by Sam when he felt stronger, but when he felt like his nose was a fountain and his lungs would cough themselves out, it was Li he really needed. She was soft and warm, her voice gentle and soothing as she held him, ignoring her own exhaustion, and rocked him to sleep.

He used to love watching as she and Sam worked together on his case. There was a kind of unspoken partnership between them. It fascinated Dean. But then again, so did the little black sports car toy. When he returned to his normal size, he'd swiped the thing before Li could get rid of it or pack it away; it had a soft spot in his heart now. Li must have known him well enough to pick out the one children's toy he would actually hold onto into his adulthood.

He felt a twinge of guilt that most of his feelings for her were formed through physical contact and troubled times. He'd spent a grand total of… like a week and a half with her when they were both in good form.

Yet he loved her. Something in his gut just told him so. His mood lightened as soon as she appeared and he couldn't help but listen when she spoke. He even snuck into the kitchen early in the morning sometimes to watch her dance and sing to her music while he sipped the coffee she made for them. He hadn't decided if it was brotherly love or something else, but it was strong. So strong that he wouldn't have been able to shoot the demon if he'd known it was in her body. He hadn't even been able to take over the exorcism in the motel because he knew it would hurt her.

"Just talk to it, Dean. You can do this." He said to himself, pushing the door open. Locking it behind him, he listened for any signs that the demon was awake. The room was silent. He opened the bookshelves that hid the dungeon and revealed Li, sitting perfectly still and restrained in the chair, with a big grin on her face and coal black eyes.

 **A/N: Review please!**


	32. Puddin' Pops and Scrambled Eggs

**A/N: Vivi here! Welcome back, sorry it's been a few days since I posted. Anyway, I couldn't think of a good title for this chapter, so what you see is what you get. Enjoy! And let me know what you think of it at the end. I could really use the feedback!**

He couldn't do it. As soon as he dug the bullet out and wrapped the wound to keep Li from bleeding to death, Dean left the dungeon. The demon was taunting him and trying to get him riled up. It even used her real voice. Rage had been growing in his chest and he left before he hurt her.

It was late when he left the room. He called Bobby again and got some helpful tips on how to get information without leaving a mark. Bobby said he was almost to the hospital already. Dean wasn't sure how much more time he'd have alone with the demon to get answers. He hoped that as soon as Bobby arrived, they'd be able to remove the thing. Getting information was the most important thing until Bobby came with a miracle. That being so, he forced himself to return to the dungeon and keep trying.

Dean hated having to do those things to Li's body. Sure, they wouldn't leave a mark, but he didn't know if she could feel pain at this point or not. The demon could, but could Li? He tried to push it from his mind and focus on the task at hand.

"Why did you come back?" He asked for the sixth time after finishing one of Bobby's techniques.

"This ass is just too sweet to leave behind. Don't you agree?" She panted with a devilish grin, her hair and clothing soaked and still steaming slightly.

"Why not just stay in Hell and rot?"

"Hell's not fun, puddin' pop. It's actually… Hell. For everyone. No one is trying to stay down there but Crowley."

"You working for Crowley?"

"No, you imbecile. I'm a few hundred years his senior and I don't do well taking orders from anyone, much less a mere child."

"Then who are you working for?" Dean growled. When he didn't get an immediate reply, he turned to mix some salt and holy water in a large jug and heard the demon squirm.

"I'm not telling you. You better be careful with this vessel, lover boy. Wouldn't want to hurt anyone."

"I don't take orders from demons." Dean splashed the demon with the concoction and she screamed and writhed in the chair.

"I knew it was a bad idea involving you." She gasped. "Alastair trained you well and everyone knew you were only a few years away from turning." The demon took a few seconds to catch her breath before smiling up at Dean. "But I like a challenge."

"Did you hire the shifters and witches and demons that have been attacking us?" Dean asked, circling the chair.

"Oh, you noticed. How delightful. Didn't do me much good, though did it? Little Ali saved you every time, didn't she?"

Dean stopped walking. He was directly behind the chair, where the demon couldn't see him. Li actually had kept their asses out of the fire more than Dean had realized before that point. She stitched Cas up a couple times, she found Dean in the mine, she helped Sam take care of him when he was small… the longer Dean thought, the more examples came into his mind.

"Why don't we make a deal?" Dean said suddenly.

"Oh, you scoundrel. You just want to kiss her, don't you?" The demon taunted.

"You get exorcised and never come back and we don't come looking to torch your demon ass. How does that sound?" Dean asked, moving into the demon's view.

"No deal. I've gotten rather attached to this vessel. Why don't we just say I can keep it and you let me go?"

"Why don't I just send you back to Hell right now?" Dean splashed it again. "Why her?"

The demon glared at him with Li's eyes and Dean actually felt guilty for a second. "I need her." It hissed under its breath.

"Well we need her too. And look who's tied to a chair."

"We're bound, Winchester. If I could have left her on the side of that ravine, I would have. Do you really think I'd face a hunter as notable as you without an ace up my sleeve? You'd have nurtured her back to health anyway, and I could have made my move later." She growled, her eyes turning from Li's natural steely blue to the deepest black he'd ever seen.

"Bound? Like physically?" Dean asked, standing directly in front of the chair with the water jug held tightly in one hand.

The demon realized her mistake in revealing why she was still around. If he found the mark, he could power it down and exorcise her, forcing her to change her plans dramatically. Getting that last ingredient would be difficult if it was guarded by two of the world's best hunters and an angel. Undoubtedly, they'd pull in other hunters to protect their precious Allison. Francesca resolved to remain silent for the rest of the day. She'd said too much and she hoped reinforcements for her side were on the way.

"Talk." Dean barked, dousing her once more. After a while, Dean tried alternative methods, but nothing worked. The demon had stopped communicating. "Fine." He left he dungeon and went to nurse that case in the fridge.

The next few days progressed like the first. Francesca would taunt Dean and avoid answering all his questions while still infuriating him. He never made the connection that she had a binding mark on her abdomen that was keeping her in Li's body. She beat at Li's mind, trying to remove her before she could erupt again. That had been the first time Francesca had been overtaken by a vessel in about five hundred years. She hated it.

Dean would leave the dungeon late at night and drink himself to sleep at the library tables, only to wake up early and get right back to her with a horrible hangover. It was exhausting for both of them but both felt their cause was well worth the price. Dean felt he was losing Li with each passing day; he knew the demon would wear at her whenever it could. Francesca felt she was losing her ingredient as more and more time passed. If she wasn't out soon, she'd have to prepare it all over again.

I didn't take long for Francesca to lose count of the days she was in the bunker. In her frustration, she pulled madly at the handcuffs while Dean was away. She thought it was nighttime but she wasn't sure. Her hope was dwindling; she'd probably be sent back to that hurricane in the second circle soon. The small thing that she clung to was that she might be sent away before the ingredient was ruined. She could probably make it out of Hell in time to collect it…

That same night found Bobby snoring in a chair next to Sam's hospital bed. Sam was sedated so he wouldn't choke on the endotracheal tube that was breathing for him, but the doctors still didn't know if the drug he'd been slipped had totally left his system yet. When Bobby had arrived, he'd demanded to know the details of Sam's care. They looked at his fake ID and cleared him as family, then told him what they could. Out of the three that arrived, they said, he was the worst off. He actually stopped breathing in the ambulance. The drug he'd been given was a heavy sedative; whoever had done this to him had given him too much. His heart didn't stop though; the doctors seemed visibly relieved as they retold the story. He'd gone through surgery to repair all the toes on his right foot, put his femur back in place, and hopefully save a nerve that was compressed.

Bobby hadn't been happy to say the least. He was furious with Dean for having left his brother alone in such a condition. The kid couldn't even move, much less defend himself from an attack. The nurse had showed off the two casts that adorned Sam's leg; one on his foot and one huge one from his calf to his belly button. He explained that they would cut off the bigger one in a few days; Sam wouldn't need to wear it outside the hospital. A brace would suffice for everyday activities until his hip healed.

The first few nights, Bobby hardly got any sleep. He refused to leave Sam's room at night, fearing the worst. The nurses and doctors made an exception to the visiting hours for him, and he thanked them for it. In his gut, Bobby knew that Sam would be disoriented and possibly hostile when he woke up; he had to be there to diffuse the dangerous hunter before he dug them a deeper hole.

The sound of a door being pushed open woke Bobby up. "Morning Mr. Jones." A happy female nurse said. "Mind if I turn the light on and check on Sam?"

"Please." Bobby said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up straighter in the chair. The nurse had already passed the holy water test, disguised as a wet sneeze. He watched her work, taking blood pressures, checking pulses, temperature readings, looking at the IV, then at his chart, checking his medication drip, looking at the oxygen gauge on the wall where the tube ran to. She was very thorough. Bobby approved.

"Mr. Jones, Sam looks great. I'm going to let the doctor know. We're going to try and get him off the tube in a little while, okay? We'll let the sedation wear down some so he can help us get it out." She smiled and waited for him to reply.

"Sounds great." He said. She took off quickly, as nurses do. Bobby reached over and patted Sam's arm. He didn't respond. "Soon as you're cleared, boy, we'll go see Dean. He and the girl are in trouble."

Bobby could have sworn he saw Sam's fingers try to curl into a fist.

A few hours later, after Bobby had gotten some coffee from an angry little machine in the waiting room, Sam's sedation had worn down enough for the doctor to take the tube out. Sam was still mostly unconscious, but when the doctor told him to cough, he did and the tube came out easily as the doctor pulled on it. A wave of relief flooded Bobby when Sam started breathing on his own. The doctor had the nurse put him on a little extra oxygen anyway.

"Good work, team. Let's let the sedation wear off all the way. Is this one of the flunitrazepam overdoses?" The doctor asked, tossing his gloves in a bin.

The nice nurse, Tina, responded. "Yes, sir. The one who stopped breathing in the ambulance."

"Okay. So it's been a few days. The drug should be past withdrawal symptoms by now, I think. Let's let that sedation wear off and see how he does when he wakes up." The doctor came to stand in front of Bobby as Tina cleaned Sam up and left the room to document the encounter. "Mr. Jones, I presume?"

Bobby stood and shook the man's hand. "That's me."

"Dr. Basile. I know this has been overwhelming for you. We have police on premises waiting to get Sam's and Cas' stories as soon as they're able, and we have a missing person's report out for Dean. You must have questions for me." The doctor stood calmly and let Bobby collect his thoughts.

"Uh, you can cancel that report for Dean. He called me, said he was fine. He's back at my place now, apparently. I'll handle his discharge and bills and all that." Bobby paused and raked his brain for one of the hundred questions he'd been saving up for the doctors. "How long will Sam need that foot cast?"

"Six weeks, then a recheck." The doctor said. "The big one will come off before he leaves the hospital."

"And will he be able to walk again?"

The doctor smiled and nodded. "Yes, sir. He's suffered a dislocation that, while serious, shouldn't keep him from living a normal, carefully active lifestyle once healed. He'll be in a brace for about ten weeks, no weight bearing for six weeks, with a regime of physical therapy to keep him limber and help him retain much of his current range of motion."

"'kay."

"We did put several screws in, to hold his joint in place. I want to stress those six weeks as a hard line, Mr. Jones. Those screws can shift if he starts walking too soon."

"Got it. So what's this about a nerve, now?"

"The dislocation was pressing on his sciatic nerve when he arrived. We released the pressure, but we won't know if there's damage until he wakes up. It's rather difficult to test reflexes when one's entire leg is in a cast."

"Understood. So now we just wait for him to wake up?" Bobby asked.

"Yes, sir. Shouldn't be long now. An hour, maybe. He may even go home as soon as tomorrow morning."

"Thanks." Bobby sighed. Another night on the tough chair it was, then.

An hour later, almost on the dot, Bobby was reading a newspaper in the hard chair and Sam groaned. He'd done that before, in his unconscious state, but this one was louder and longer. Bobby stood, hesitant to let his hopes get too high.

"Dee?" Sam slurred, his eyes fluttering against the bright lights in the ceiling. They stung and he lifted an arm over them to stop the pain.

"No, Sam. I'm here; it's Bobby. Dean's okay, but he ain't here right now." Bobby moved to stand next to Sam's bed and put his hands in his pockets. "Y'in pain?"

"Uh, little. Where're we?"

"Some hospital. Couple hours outside St. Cloud. Demon really did a number on ya." Bobby said.

"Feels like." Sam said, forcing a laugh before taking in a shaking breath. "Wha' happened? Cas okay?"

"Cas is still out cold; he's fine otherwise. It drugged the lot a ya, beat ya half to hell, and somehow you boys got away. Somebody called an ambulance and they brought ya here. Dean woke up a couple days ago. He's got the demon in the bunker already, interrogatin' it. Cas is down the hall, gettin' his beauty sleep." Bobby said. Sam took his arm down and let it flop to the bed. His eyes adjusted quickly, but he was feeling foggy and confused. He tried to sit up but felt something dig into his stomach and fell back to the bed.

"The hell?" Sam said, his voice still a bit slurred.

Bobby pushed the button to raise the head of the bed as he spoke. "Demon popped your leg out of its socket, remember? It broke all your right toes while you were out too." Bobby frowned.

"Okay, right. Hey, is Ali okay?" Sam looked to Bobby and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his right leg and throat. He'd been through worse.

"'Bout that. Demon's still got 'er. Dean tracked 'em down solo and called me afterward askin' how to kill it without killin' her." Bobby shrugged and looked away. "I ain't found nothin' yet. I got a couple more calls to make though. Old contacts who owe me one."

"He went out alone?" Sam asked, his voice thick with disbelief and frustration.

"Didn't sound like he had all his whits about 'im when I talked to 'im on the phone. He's pretty torn up." Bobby said.

"I can't believe… Actually, I can." Sam shook his head, sending the room spinning for a few seconds. "Why didn't he call you first?"

"Beats me. He asked me to come stay with you two until I could get ya home." Bobby smiled weakly at Sam. "Been here a few days. Glad to finally have some company."

Sam grinned. It was short-lived. His face twisted in pain as a particularly strong throb made his stomach clench, hard.

Bobby noticed and pushed the red call button. A nurse walked in a few seconds later. "Sam, glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling? How's the pain, scale of 1 to 10?"

"Uh, six?" Sam said, failing to mask the pain with a shallow smirk.

"You're actually due for some pain meds. I'll get right back with that." She left and returned a few minutes later with a syringe, which she injected right into his IV. After taking several vitals and entering them on her tablet, she left the room. Sam felt much less pain but now felt stoned. Bobby had never seen the young hunter so giggly.

"Bobby, Bobby. You gotta try this." Sam said, his head lolling from side to side on the pillow. "It's awe… hawsome."

"Think I'll pass on that."

Sam's suddenly became very confused. "Did you say Ali was here?"

"No, Sam, she's at the bunker with Dean." Bobby said, not too surprised that Sam's eggs seemed to be scrambled by the meds.

"Dean always gets the girl." Sam huffed, pulling his arms to rest over his stomach.

"'scuse me?" Bobby asked. "What're you bellyachin' about now?"

"I'm her friend too, ya know. I exist too."

"Sam, what's goin' on? I'm havin' trouble jumpin' on the crazy train here." Bobby pulled up a chair and sat next to Sam's bed.

Sam turned his head to look at Bobby with tear-filled eyes. "She likes 'im more 'cuz he was a baby an' I was so busy tryin' a save 'im I just let it happen."

"Still not followin', Sam."

"I never had a chance anyway." Sam looked away and the tears started to roll.

Realization began to dawn on Bobby. "So there's one of them weird love triangles goin' on?"

"No…" Sam moaned. He was quiet for a few seconds before continuing. "I never told 'er about it 'n he never told me about it and now it's happening."

"Sam, Dean told me the other day there was nothin' touchy-feely goin' on between him and the girl. What are you talking about? Did he lie to me?" Bobby asked.

Sam didn't reply, but instead began looking intensely at the ceiling. "Are those bugs?" It seemed he'd completely forgotten what they were talking out. His tears dried up quickly.

Bobby looked up to see the ceiling tiles, with their normal pocked surfaces. "No, Sam. It's just the ceiling." Bobby frowned and resolved to ask Dean about this whole situation as soon as he could without causing any harm. Maybe he'd wait until they found out if the girl was going to live or not. If not, there wouldn't be an issue…

Sam continued to ask a series of bizarre and sometimes publicly inappropriate questions until the meds wore off. He didn't seem to remember all of what they talked about. Bobby told the doctor what had happened and he changed the pain medication to one that caused a bit less confusion. Needless to say, Bobby was relieved.

 **A/N: Review please! Let me know your thoughts on what you just read...**


	33. Des Moines

**A/N: Vivi here! I'm loving the reviews for the past few chapters. Keep it up! Anyway, enjoy the next chapter!**

"Mr. Jones, Mr. Smith." Dr. Basile strode into the room, glancing over his tablet before speaking again. "Looks like we can send you home tomorrow morning, Sam. You're doing very well, no signs of seizures or side effects from the overdose, no complications from the surgery as of now." The doctor stood at the end of Sam's bed and looked over his tablet once again.

"Seizures?" Sam asked. "Is that a common symptom of whatever that drug was?"

"Not common, but serious. If you'd have seized, you may have torn the screws in your hip out of place. That's why we put you in a cast as quickly as we had. Dizziness and confusion are much more common side effects. I'm guessing you don't remember anything from the night of the overdose?" Dr. Basile asked.

Bobby gave Sam a stern look, warning him to answer carefully. "Uh, no. I was drinking with my brothers and then… nothing."

"Sam, I have a question to ask. I want you to answer as honestly as possible, okay?" The doctor said.

"Okay."

"Do you feel well enough right now to answer some questions about that night? The police have been very insistent on talking with you and your brothers regarding that man's death."

"Somebody died?" Sam exclaimed, looking to Bobby.

"They think it was your kidnapper. Snapped his neck on the porch." Bobby said slowly, hoping Sam would understand the underlying meaning.

He did. "So why do I need to give a statement if the guy is dead already?"

"I'm sure they just want to know what happened. Will you speak with them?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." Sam said. "When will they come?"

"Their force is the one that supplies our security, so three of them are already here. May I send them in?"

"Give us a couple minutes." Bobby said.

"Gotta start dragging things up." Sam flashed the doctor a brief smile. The young physician nodded and left the room. Bobby ran Sam through what little Dean had told him; it brought up more questions than answers, but Sam's story had to at least vaguely match what the police suspected.

The questioning was brief. Bobby got the feeling that they really believed the man they found dead on the porch was the kidnapper. He was relieved when they left; they'd said they didn't need to question the other brothers, seeing as both were indisposed at the moment.

"Why don't we just go now?" Sam asked after the police had left. It was late in the evening by that time. "Dean needs our help."

"Sam, don't rush this. The demon's not goin' anywhere, Cas isn't awake yet, and you still have the great white whale on your leg. Just sit tight for one more day where I'm not the only one watchin' out for you." Bobby hadn't sleep well in that chair for the past few days. His tone betrayed his exhaustion.

"I don't want him alone with that demon. You haven't met it, you don't know what it does to people." Sam said. "It's a taunter, Bobby. It tried to get Ali to kill herself for months… If she hadn't been so strong, it may have finished her."

"You three told me she was goin' through some stuff but you didn't mention the suicidal ideation." Bobby said. That was one thing he hadn't heard them gripe about over the phone since she arrived.

"We didn't want to hurt her by talking behind her back. We tried charms and Cas tried some stuff, but it didn't work. I don't even think she knew we were trying to pull her out of it, Bobby. It got to the point after the first couple weeks that we ran out of things to try. She wouldn't talk about it, we couldn't take her to a professional or she'd get arrested. Remember when we asked you if you knew any psychologists who knew about hunting?"

Bobby shook his head. "If I remembered everything you'd asked me there'd be no more room up here."

"Well, that was for her. And you didn't know anyone within like four hundred miles of us. We probably shouldn't have left her alone with Cas, but… The world keeps spinning, you know? A case came up and Dean and me talked and decided to go. Pros outweighed the cons. There were other people to save, and we trusted Cas. Maybe we trusted him a little less when he tossed her through a cereal display, but…" He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. "Did we do the right thing?"

"Seems like you did all you could." Bobby shrugged. "Some situations are just bad."

"We should have tested her for demons before we agreed to take her in. Cas brought her though, so we never thought…" Sam let his head fall into his hands and was silent for a few seconds. "Five months, Bobby. She suffered for five months with a demon breathing threats through her head and she believed they were her own thoughts."

"Sounds awful. Glad you got it out before she lost herself." Bobby's voice was barely a whisper. The gravity of their situation had never been made known to him before this point. He understood now why they were so protective towards her. They'd made a mistake and were still trying to fix it.

"But now it's back, probably doing the same thing but ten times worse and she can't even begin to resist the demon." Sam lifted his head and sighed. "It's driving me crazy knowing that she's suffering and there's nothing we can do about it without hurting her."

"I'm workin' on that, kid. Got a few more calls to make, remember? Just not so late at night. Hunters get pissy when you interrupt their beauty sleep." Sam didn't reply. Bobby didn't have anything more to say, so he returned to his newspaper.

Sam was silent for a few minutes before speaking up again in a hushed, vulnerable tone. "She's somethin' else, Bobby. I know she's strong, and hard headed, but… I don't know. I feel different around her. Like I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not. I'm not an FBI agent, or a police officer, or a lawyer, or anyone with authority, and it doesn't matter. She looks at me the same whether I'm half-conscious after a hunt or knee deep in research. No pity in her eyes, no judgement… Bobby, I've never met a woman like that before; especially one who knew about what's out there. What if she doesn't pull through?"

"Are we havin' a chick flick moment here?" Bobby asked. Sam ignored him.

"Dean would be a wreck. They're pretty close, I think." Sam said, as if talking to himself. His tone sounded with just a twinge of bitterness.

"Sam, do you like Allison?" Bobby asked, sick of this venting session already.

Sam looked at him, his face giving away his confusion. "Yeah, I mean, she's a good friend."

"Not like that. Do ya like her?" Bobby asked. He watched as Sam's face flushed slightly and his eyes got just a little wider.

"Well, uh, what do you mean?"

"Come on, boy. It's a simple question. Do ya have feelings for the girl or not?" Bobby said with frustration thick in his voice.

Sam looked away and rubbed his neck. "I don't want to lose her. I don't know how I feel aside from that." His tone was soft and quiet; it rung with truth and fragility.

Bobby hesitated, not wanting to kick the reality of the situation back in his face while he was the way he was. He made his voice as gentle as he could. The doctor had mentioned earlier that the new medicine Sam was put on might make emotions feel stronger; Bobby didn't want to have to console a blubbering Winchester. "We'll try our best, Sam, but I can't make any promises that she'll be okay after we get that demon."

"I don't feel so good, Bobby." Sam said suddenly. His hand flew to his stomach and his eyes glazed over. Doc had also mentioned nausea and vomiting as side effects and gave Bobby some little blue bags to use 'as needed for symptoms'.

The next morning, Bobby had a terrible kink in his neck from sleeping in the chair once again. It put him in a bad mood and he went to get coffee while the doctor and a few nurses worked on getting the great white whale of a cast off of Sam's leg. Bobby made a few calls, as promised, in his time outside the hospital but came up emptyhanded.

Once the brace replaced the cast, they were given a pair of crutches and strict instructions to go home with. Sam got dressed in the clothes he came in, trying to ignore the blood stains that seemed to be on every garment. He was discharged soon after.

Sam read the instruction sheet out loud as Bobby pushed him in a wheelchair out to the car. "Six weeks until I can put weight on it. Seriously? Is that really necessary?"

"Doc said you'll pop out those screws if you walk too early." Bobby said. His temper was shorter than usual with the pain in his neck the way it was.

"But I still have to move it. It says PT and home exercises to be determined." Sam set the paper in his lap. "What does that mean? Do I have to go find someone else?"

"Sounds like. We'll get you set up with a program from around your place."

"What am I supposed to do for like fifteen weeks while this heals?" Sam asked. They pulled up beside the car, which Bobby had pulled up to the sidewalk before fetching Sam.

"Beats me. Learn somethin' new. Take up whittling. Read a book. Just don't make it worse." Bobby threw the crutches in the trunk and helped Sam get into the passenger seat. Sam gasped; it looked like it hurt. "Here's the keys. Keep her runnin'. I'll be out with Cas in a minute and then we gotta drive like hell."

Bobby made good on his claim; he came out with Cas in a wheelchair, still in his hospital gown, with his bag of belongings over the handle. Cas was in the backseat, covered with a scratchy blanket from the trunk in no time. A nurse came running out just as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot; they were already too far away for her to get the license plate number.

"Did you get my bag of meds?" Sam asked, sifting through the bag of things he was given at discharge.

"It's in there. Did ya even look?" Bobby snapped.

"Oh. Good." He held up the clear bag, which held five different medications; the doctor knew they'd be driving a long ways home, but he didn't know where home was. He told them he wanted to be prepared.

Bobby sighed and tried to reign in his frustration. "I'm gonna make a few more calls, see if we can't get out of this whole demon situation without losing anybody."

Five calls later, a friend of a friend, named Maddie, offered up a solution. More realistically though, she was selling them a solution. A pretty penny for a potential way out of their sticky situation. Sam was glad to hear that there was reason to believe Ali might pull through, but Bobby wasn't so optimistic. They drove for several more hours before stopping for gas.

"We need to stop in Des Moines and pick that thing up. I'm gonna call that brother a' yours and let him know we're comin'." Bobby said as he started filling up the car at the gas station. Sam handed Bobby the old flip phone through the window. It didn't even ring before he got a message that the number was not available. Worried, he tried all of Dean's other phones but got the same result. "Dammit. If that kid got 'imself killed I'm gonna throttle him."

 **A/N: Don't forget that review!**


	34. Hope Rising

**A/N: Vivi here! Sorry for yet another long interval between chapters. Today is the first day I've actually had time to myself in a long time. Anywho, I hope you enjoy the next chapter, called Hope Rising. Please don't forget to review. I love hearing what you guys think!**

"Dean?" Bobby called from the door to the garage. There was no response. Gun in hand, he entered the bunker slowly and began carefully scanning the hall for signs of a struggle. Finding no evidence of a demonic attack, he advanced towards the kitchen.

A quiet growling sound came and went as he approached the dark room. It grew slightly louder the closer he got to the threshold until he was right outside the kitchen, steeling his nerves for whatever lay inside.

"Kid's a hunter. He knows how to deal with these things. No way did some black eyed bitch hang him out to dry. Probably on a supply run right now…" Bobby quietly tried to reassure himself that Dean would be fine once he found him, but in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but prepare for the worst.

The rhythmic snarl was still steadily groaning on as Bobby burst into the dark kitchen. Much to his surprise, there was nothing amiss. The sound was coming from beyond the other door. Bobby quickly crossed the space and held his gun ready. If the thing making that noise had hurt Dean or… worse, Bobby was going to make sure it never saw the light of day again.

Leveling his gun, the experienced hunter turned the corner and glanced around the room. Nothing was out of place except the body slumped over one of the tables. With adrenaline pulsing through his veins, Bobby ran to the body, gun ready, to confirm that yes, it actually was Dean. A flash of silver shone and Bobby sprinkled some holy water over the unmoving man. No reaction. Glancing around the room once more, he noticed several empty beer bottles on the table and realized that the rhythmic growl he'd heard from the hall was coming from Dean. He smacked his shoulder and Dean woke with a start, taking a second to focus on his assailant.

When Dean saw who it was, he put the safety back on his gun. It was loaded with devil's trap bullets and was in his hand at all times until he knew no other demons were coming. Bobby also put the safety on his gun, and stowed it.

"Hey, Bobby. You made it." Dean said. His speech was slurred, probably from sleep.

"Yeah, no thanks to you. I called and you didn't pick up."

Dean looked over at his phone, which now seemed to have permanent residence on the library table. It was unresponsive when he pushed the power button. "Sorry, I've been trying to get information."

"Help me with these two before we get into this conversation, would ya?"

Sam was glad to see his brother alive and in one piece. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. When he had first woken up, Bobby was there. He told Sam that Dean had captured the demon alone and was interrogating it alone. Needless to say, Sam wasn't happy about that. "Hey, Dean. How's it going?" He asked from his seat in the car.

"Not good. Where's the huge cast?" Dean asked as he walked up to the car.

"They sawed it off when I woke up. I guess they were afraid I might have seizures from being drugged and they didn't want the screws to pop loose in my leg. I still have one on my foot though." Sam said. Bobby retrieved a pair of crutches from the trunk and handed them to Sam.

"I know. I saw you before I left the hospital. Can you walk already?" Dean asked.

"Not far. I can't put weight on it for like six weeks or the screws will pop out." Sam pulled himself to his feet and leaned heavily on the crutches. His face showed his pain. Dean and Bobby helped him to his room. He had a bulky brace around his thigh that went up and wrapped around his stomach to support the weight of his leg while he walked and to keep the hip from moving too far backward. Dean fetched a big bag of ice for Sam and they put his leg up. After the pain pills kicked in, Sam was out cold. Cas was carried into Dean's room. They weren't sure when he'd wake up.

Once Cas and Sam were situated, Bobby followed Dean into the library. "I found something that might help us out."

"Yeah? And what's that? A friggin' miracle?" Dean asked. He felt close to the end of his rope and his despair bled into his tone.

"It's a box with special binding magic in it. We can put the demon in there and it won't be able to get out. It might not be dead but it won't be hurtin' nobody." Bobby said. "It's the best option I got for ya right now."

"Do you have the box already? Do we need to make it?" Dean asked, hope rising in his voice. This seemed like a good compromise to him. Any way to keep Li alive and get rid of the demon would have sounded like a good idea at this point.

"'s in the trunk. I got the stuff for the spell too. You think the girl can handle being demon-less?"

Dean glared at Bobby. "She'll be fine."

"I mean, is her body in good enough shape to keep her alive or do we need to do this thing in a hospital parking lot so she don't die on us?" Bobby asked, obviously irritated.

"Oh. I don't know." Dean admitted, the anger disappearing from his eyes. "Her side was bleeding when I brought her in but it stopped and I patched up her leg where the bullet went in. I don't know if the demon wrecked her or not. I didn't exactly do a physical exam."

"You might want to. I'd hate to see you lose another friend, Dean. She seems like a nice gal." Bobby wasn't sure if this was the best time to mention his talk with Sam about Allison, so he held back at the last second.

"She is."

Dean and Bobby checked over Li's body. They found her anti-possession warding compromised, a binding mark on her side, the bullet wound, and blood from her period staining much of her pants. The demon screamed and taunted the whole time, of course, but with Bobby in the room Dean was able to keep a level head. They left without saying a word, making their way to the library so they wouldn't be overheard.

"We need to take down that binding mark before we can get the demon out. Shouldn't be too bad. Just one little cut." Bobby said.

Dean hadn't been listening. He was concentrating on trying to figure out how long Li's periods were. She hadn't had one before this one that he remembered, but he knew when this one started and it seemed way too long compared to what little he knew about the female cycles.

"Dean." Bobby snapped his fingers in Dean's face and brought the young hunter back to reality.

"What?" He asked.

"This binding box spell isn't gonna feel good for the girl. She might have seizures or stop breathing. Worst case, her heart stops." He took the box off the table in the library and held it up for Dean to see. "Can I count on you to stay focused while we do this?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded, suddenly unsure of himself. "We've exorcised her before, that was no big deal." He thought back to the first time. She'd begged them to kill her when she learned the demon was in her. Even then, Dean and Sam had never really considered that an option. Now, they might kill her trying to save her. Either way, it seemed, someone lost.

"This ain't gonna be like that, son. That's a pretty straightforward thing. Say some words, black smoke slips out easy, person's fine unless the demon messed with 'em. The spell with this box pulls the demon out while it can still hold on. It could do some serious damage on the way out. She could bleed to death." Bobby said.

"We gotta get her back, Bobby. No matter the cost. I can't let her rot as that demon's bitch." Dean said, eyeing the box with suspicion. He coughed lightly and looked back to Bobby. "If we do it quick, will it hurt less? Take the demon by surprise?"

"Don't know. Book just said how to do it. Didn't say what it felt like." Bobby shrugged.

Dean hesitated. "Is this the only way you found to get it out?"

"And keep the girl kickin', yeah. The other methods either kill both or just send the demon packin'." Bobby shrugged. "It's your decision, Dean."

Dean frowned. "Wish I could ask her. But then she'd say to kill the demon no matter the cost, and I can't kill her, so…" He ran his fingers through his hair and glared at the box. "We'll try it, but if it gets too bad we're pulling the plug."

"Dean, it's kind of an all or nothing deal." Bobby said.

He turned away and rubbed his neck. What if it killed her anyway? "Once the thing's in that box, can we kill it?"

"Don't think so. Break the box and it'll get out. Best option would be to put this thing on a shelf somewhere safe and leave it alone." Bobby set the box down and crossed his arms.

So if Li died in the process, the thing would live anyway. But it would be trapped. But it would be alive. "Ugh." Dean groaned, agonizing over the choice.

"Why don't we try to ask Allison?" Bobby asked softly. "We might be able to get to her if we push the demon aside."

Bobby and Dean were in the dungeon with the demon for quite some time. They'd tried several techniques to get to Li, but the demon wasn't budging. Then Bobby stood and, as gently as possible, broke the binding mark. The demon threw its head back and laughed loudly, making Bobby back out of the devil's trap quickly.

"She's gone, boys. I'm the only one home now. That nasty little mark was the only thing between us and the afterlife for her." Li's eyes flashed black again and the demon grinned widely. "Took long enough. The little dear was stronger than I expected."

"Don't lie to us." Bobby snapped. Dean was silent, his face hardened. Inside, he felt the panic rising in his throat; he held back a cough and tried to keep his breathing even. Li was gone? They'd just killed her? That mark was the only thing keeping her with them?

"Would I lie to you sweet fellows? Now how's about you let me out of these cuffs and scratch that devil's trap. I'm ready to go on my merry way since there's no getting her back now." The demon couldn't stop smiling.

Bobby grabbed Dean's arm and pulled him out into the hall. They closed the door. "What do you want to do now?" Bobby asked, feigning perfect calm.

"We have to try and get to her now that the mark is down." Dean said, keeping his tone under control. "Maybe that was what was keeping her away from talking before."

"Dean, I don't think the mark had any effect on communication." Bobby said. "Maybe she's really…" He shrugged, his face sympathetic.

"She's not dead, Bobby." Dean growled. He went back into the room. Bobby followed reluctantly. It pained him to see the boy go through this. Those brothers had lost so much already; this seemed like a cruel reminder, like history repeating itself. He was sad about the girl too, but he really hadn't known her very well. He certainly wasn't going to be the one to break the news to Sam.

They tried a few more ways to get Li through to talk, but nothing worked. When they ran out of techniques, Dean walked out. His face was red; just enough for Bobby to notice.

"Dean's gonna hate me for this." Bobby said under his breath. He retrieved the ingredients for the spell to put the demon in the box from a shelf on the other side of the gate. Gingerly, he bolted the door to the dungeon shut so Dean couldn't return. He didn't expect him to come back anyway; he was probably halfway through a beer by now. Bobby made a mental note to talk with Dean about reducing his alcohol intake.

"Where did my little chew toy go?" The demon said sweetly as Bobby came back into view.

"Don't worry about him."

"I won't."

"What's your name?" Bobby asked gruffly as he set up the spell on a table in the corner. He'd left the box on the shelf, out of view, so the demon wouldn't know what he was doing.

"Francesca Rimini, but you already knew that. Dean surely told you." She said. Her voice was faintly reminiscent of Ali's, when she'd shot her first full nine back at Bobby's house. Confident, expectant, and just a little nervous. Guilt pulled at Bobby once more. She'd been kidnapped under his watch. He tried not to think about how this whole situation, one that was hurting his boys and the girl he'd only just come to know, was his fault.

"Francesca." Bobby repeated. He'd need her name for the spell. With Dean out of the way, perhaps he could get the spell done quickly enough to spare Allison the worst of Francesca's wrath. He sincerely hoped that the girl would wake up as soon as the demon was locked in the box; Dean probably wouldn't be as upset if this actually worked.

"What have you got there, cupcake?"

"Another way to talk to Allison." He said calmly. The spell was almost ready. Somewhere in his mind, Bobby was trying to figure out the best time to ask Dean what he thought- or felt- about Allison, since obviously neither brother really knew what the other's feelings were. He didn't want them to lose what little kin they had over a girl they'd only just met. As he finished preparing the spell, he resolved to only ask Dean once Allison recovered. If she didn't make it, there would be no need…

"I keep telling you, she's gone. The poor thing petered out right after she called the police for her beloved boys. That binding mark was the only thing keeping her dead soul in my body." Francesca said.

"That ain't your body." Bobby muttered. He turned and faced the demon. "Last chance. Leaving and never coming back sounds like a pretty good option right about now, huh?"

"Oh, but it doesn't. I can't stay away from her. She's irresistible and she's mine."

"That your final answer?" Bobby asked. He heard someone try the door and find it locked. The hair on the back of Bobby's neck stood up.

"Yes." The demon said, letting the word drip from her lips like venom.

"Good." Bobby went to get the box and heard someone pushing hard on the door.

"Bobby? What's going on?" Dean said through the door. Locked doors were a strict no-go in the bunker. No one was allowed to lock any door besides the outer ones and the dungeon, but they had to be opened if one of them wanted in. They used an honor system. Bobby frowned as he realized that he would have to face Dean's wrath sooner than anticipated.

"Sorry, boy." Bobby said softly. He took the box into the dungeon and set it on the table.

"Bobby, let me in." Dean demanded, nearly shouting now. He pounded on the door. Bobby slid the gates for the dungeon closed to muffle the sound.

"What's this?" Francesca asked, making constant eye contact with deep black marbles where Ali's deep blue irises once were. "Papa bear taking over and sparing baby bear the agony of killing his one true love?"

"The things you do for family." Bobby said. He started the spell from a very old, small book and opened the box, setting it in front of Francesca inside the devil's trap. Dean was slamming into the door now, but it was no doubt iron reinforced.

Francesca's eyes grew wide and flicked back to what Ali's had once been. She began coughing and cursing and screaming in unnatural pitches. Allison's body twitched and writhed, but not in any way that could kill the girl inside. Bobby was only slightly relieved. That was when blackness, not necessarily a smoke but more of an oozing mass, leaked from her eyes. Then her ears.

"No, Bobby, stop!" Dean shouted; Bobby could hear the anger in his voice. He kicked the door and it hurt his foot, but all Dean could think was how she would die without him being there. If he could just get in, maybe he could stop it… Maybe he could keep her safe…

The fluid dripped out of her mouth and she continued convulsing. A little blood came out with it, bright red and in stark contrast to the deep black. The mass, as if it were a creature in itself, oozed its way towards the box slowly, but the blood that leaked with it just soaked into her clothing. The black started coming out faster after a few seconds. It poured from her mouth and seemed to leak from her wrists, eventually slipping its way out of her very pores to collect in little drops and streams all over her body. Her eyes flashed black, but that too seemed to coagulate and escape her pupils.

As agonizing minutes slipped by, Dean refused to let up; he beat at that door with all the ferocity of a hot blooded hunter. The demonic ooze, however, started to taper off. The box was only about half full. Bobby had worried that it would overflow.

As less and less came out, Allison's body moved less and less. Eventually, her head hung down and all that was holding her up was the rope around her torso.

"Please, Bobby." Dean pleaded, nearly in tears. He'd resorted to just pounding with his fist and rattling the door handle; already, he knew he would have bruises on his feet, knees, and hands. "Please."

The dripping malevolence stopped and collected itself into the box slowly, tauntingly. Bobby closed it with his foot and fastened the warded latches as if it might try to jump out at any second. Then he took out a large tube of superglue and glued every possible opening and moving part. He let it sit for a few minutes to dry while he checked over the girl who was slumped in the chair. Bobby's face twisted in a grimace; she looked broken, even from across the room.

She still had a pulse. She was breathing. Both good signs. But she hadn't woken up yet. She should have woken up already.

Blood dripped lazily from her lips onto her lap, where most of it had soaked into her pants already. Bobby frowned and made sure the superglue was dry before opening the gate and standing before the door. Dean was still trying to get in. Bobby stood so that the door would be between him and the hunter and unlocked the latch. The door was open in an instant and Dean rushed into the dungeon, not even looking for Bobby.

"Li?" Dean asked, glancing at the box. He knelt before the body in the chair and held her face in his hands. Her eyes were closed and her mouth continued to leak red. Dean's stomach lurched as another glop of blood dripped onto her pants. "Li?"

"Dean." Bobby said softly from the gate. He was wary of speaking too soon, of setting Dean off, but in his opinion the sooner Dean let go, the better. "I don't think the demon was lying. Couldn't risk it gettin' away again."

"Of course it was lying, Bobby. Those things don't tell the truth." He hadn't taken his eyes off of her. There had to be some sign of life other than a pulse. The flick of an eyelid, flare of a nostril… She was so unnervingly still.

"They do if it'll hurt you more. She's alive, but I don't think she's around anymore, son."

"Li." Dean patted her cheek, willing her to rouse and smile and be happy again. "How long can it take for her to come back?" His voice was little more than a whisper.

"They usually bounce right up if they're there." Bobby said softly. "I'm sorry."

"Let's get her cleaned up. She needs to rest." Dean voice was eerily calm as he stood to untie her.

They got her mostly cleaned up; there were places they couldn't go, obviously, but most of the blood was wiped away, and new over-clothes were put on her. Dean sat in a chair next to her bed when he wasn't checking on Sam. Bobby slept on Cas' cot in the library. He'd decided to stick around. Dean was still sick, Sam was recovering from surgery, Cas was building up power, and Allison was… well, she wasn't.

 **A/N: Review please! Thanks!**


	35. Still

**A/N: Vivi here! I haven't written a heart-wrencher in a while, so I hope this goes well. I'm not sure if I'll be able to post tomorrow or within the next week (going on vacation), so I apologize for the cliffhanger in advance! Maybe I'll post another chapter tonight or tomorrow morning before I go... Anyway, I hope you enjoy the latest chapter of Internal Medicine, titled Still. And by the way, I've started writing the follow up story to this (I don't know if it's exactly a sequel or not), and I'll post it under the title Family Practice once Internal Medicine is complete. It'll be a continuation of some plot points I bring up here in the next few chapters that I'm pretty excited about. Enjoy!**

Dean sat in a chair next to Li's bed and watched her stomach gently rise and fall with each breath. He felt terrible; he hadn't slept in days, he hadn't eaten a full meal in probably a week, and his cold was actually getting a little worse. Not to mention the war going on in his head. The cold was probably a result of not sleeping or eating well enough. But how could he sleep when that was all Li could do? There had to be some way to bring her out of this… coma thing. There had to be.

The past few days of research had yielded no viable leads. Sam and Bobby were hard at work, surrounded by books, but Dean's time was split between research on his laptop and checking up on Li and Cas. As the days progressed, he and Sam spent more time with Li than with anyone or anything else. Sam noticed when Dean stayed with her for more than three hours and like clockwork, Sam would come in on his crutches and tell Dean to go sleep or eat or something. Dean would just stand and leave, without a word. Usually he went to sit in his room next to Cas, who was on his bed, for a few minutes before joining Bobby in the library.

Cas was the same as he'd been when Dean left him in the hospital. Unmoving, breathing well, strong pulse. They expected him to wake up any day now. Dean was worried about Cas, of course, but he knew that Cas knew what he was doing when he opted to fix the brain bleed and knock himself out. He figured Cas would pull through relatively unscathed.

Li, however, had been getting steadily worse. Her breathing became labored earlier that morning and she was showing serious signs of dehydration. Bobby started an IV, but her breathing hadn't improved. Her heartbeat was still almost as strong as it had been before; that was a small comfort. Still, the guys didn't dare leave her alone for more than a few minutes. Sam was all for taking her to the hospital, but Bobby and Dean had to remind him that she was a wanted criminal and if anyone found out or recognized her, they'd whisk her away and she'd probably be given a lethal injection before they could get to her.

Dean let his head fall into his hands and he closed his eyes, focusing on her shallow breaths. "Come on, Li. Come back to me." Lifting his head, he took in how peaceful her face looked. It was like she was truly resting for the first time in a long time.

Dean's eyelids drooped momentarily, but he snapped them back up and shook his head. He couldn't sleep, someone had to watch Li. Someone had to keep her safe. Maybe he should go get Sam. Not sleeping was really starting to wear him down. A few days without sleep were normal, but close to a week? He needed his four hours…

"Wake up. Please." Dean said. He wasn't sure what he expected, but when he got no reaction, frustration burned hot in his belly. "Open your eyes, Princess." He snapped. Letting the frustration out felt good, and the name he called her wasn't exactly bad. It actually kinda fit. She did love the color pink. Dean made a note to call her Princess when she woke up and see what her reaction was. Imagining her smiling and rolling her eyes brought a small smile to his own lips.

He let his eyes trace her cheeks, her hair, her eyes. Gently, he pushed a few stray, blonde strands back into place. He felt like he should say something. Anything. Why not tell her about the first time he saw her smile? "Y'know, that first time we took you out… I was so nervous. It was just a thrift shop, but I was on edge the whole time. There weren't even any cops around. You were this broken little thing, wearing my old hoodie and a pair of Sam's sweatpants that shrunk in the wash. You looked so small out in the real world." Dean felt a small smile grace his lips once more. "I remember you hadn't complained about not having clothes or shoes that fit or anything. We only went out cuz Sam noticed you'd worn the same shirt for four days in a row. And I remember you didn't say a word when we asked you about it, like you didn't think you deserved that sort of thing. I gotta tell you, Li, when you saw that pink polka dot monstrosity of a robe and your eyes lit up… I hadn't smiled that much in months. And you remember Sam laughed and he found a pair of matching socks and then you smiled even more. We didn't tell you, but the week before that happened we'd had a bad hunt. Sam was trapped underwater for a couple minutes with a cement block tied to his leg and… I got him out and ganked the sons of bitches, but I couldn't look him in the eye until that robe gave us all the chuckles. See, I'd asked him to be bait for this plan I had. Turns out there were two ghouls." Dean paused, hoping that his monologue would do something, anything to rouse Li. So far, nothing. He sat back in his chair and let his gaze fall to the ugly plaid sheets on her bed. Another thrift shop special.

"It was like I had one job, y'know? Look after Sammy and Li. One job. And I blew it. I was half convinced that somethin' was gonna happen to you too when we took you out. Because that would be just my luck. I'd let Sam down and then I'd let you down. There were only two people I had to look after and I screwed up one then and again and again, like all the time. And now… now this happens. I really let you down this time." Dean paused and took a deep breath, finally letting his eyes drift to Li's face.

"I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down, I let Sam down, and now I let you down. How am I supposed to live with that? How am I supposed to carry on living like this, Li? I never should have left you alone with Bobby. We should have brought you with us." Dean unconsciously brought his hand to his mouth and started biting his fingernails. When he realized what he was doing, he clenched his hands and let them fall on his knees.

"I'm sorry, Li. I'm sorry for leaving you when you needed us. I'm sorry for letting this happen to you." Absently, Dean kicked at the bed frame.

"You had us smiling for the first time in weeks when you picked up that fugly robe and showed me. I wanted you to know that. Those first couple months weren't great for us either, but Li… Come back to us. Stay with us." Dean found his eyes wandering to her hand, where something didn't seem right. He remembered the ring she found in the Impala, his ring. He'd said she should keep it. It had actually helped him identify her at the bar when the demon possessed her. Now the ring was on his finger; the demon had thrown it across the bar and Cas returned it to Dean before he took her to the motel to attempt an exorcism. The little silver thing just looked wrong on his finger. He pulled it off roughly and rolled it around in his palm. He took Li's right hand, coveting the warmth and softness he found, and gently slipped the ring onto her thumb. It fit right over a faded red burn mark.

Dean couldn't look at her any longer. The stillness in her body was overwhelming and it unnerved him in that moment. He let his fingers rest on her neck, found a pulse, not so strong as earlier in the day, but still present. Dean ran the back of his arm across his face before entering the hallway.

"How is she?" Sam asked. He and Bobby were seated in the library. Their tomes on long term demonic possessions were open on the table, looking well used.

Dean sat down heavily in the seat at the end of the table. "How do you think?" Dean asked, coughing. He hated coughing so deeply, but it felt like it was doing something, moving crap around in there.

Sam frowned and ignored the twinge of despair that pulled at his gut. "We found a couple more cases. Uh, two where the demons smoked out after like three months and the people came back like six hours later, and one where a priest exorcised a demon that was in for a year and a half but the person didn't recover. They died of dehydration in five days. That was in the 1700s though."

"Well aren't you a ball of sunshine?" Dean grumbled.

"Dean, get that thorn out of your ass. We're all feeling the hurt right now. Least you can do is try to be civilized." Bobby said. He still hadn't brought up his recent conversation with Sam, but he wasn't sure he was going to anymore. It didn't seem important now.

Dean sighed. "Sorry. It's just I'm still sick and this headache won't ease up and our friends are screwed."

"Cas'll come back, Dean." Sam said. "And with any luck, Ali will too. We just have to wait it out."

"Allison's heart has stopped beating." Everyone turned to see Cas, barely able to stand, still in his hospital gown, holding himself up against the doorframe. He looked terrible and his eyelids were drooping even as he swayed on his feet.

Dean was up and in the medical kit before Bobby even got to Cas, catching him as he finally fell. Sam followed after Dean on his crutches into Li's bedroom. "Cas was right. She was fine a minute ago." Dean said, his voice tense, as he lowered her to the floor, ignoring the IV that tore out of her arm, and started chest compressions. Sam noticed that he'd already plugged in an old defibrillator from the medical kit.

"I'll man the machine." Sam said, carefully lowering himself down beside Li and the machine. He watched as the charging light blinked and blinked. Dean continued the compressions and they heard a sickening crack.

"Dammit." Dean muttered under his breath. He didn't stop the compressions and rescue breaths even with her damaged rib possibly penetrating delicate structures underneath.

It seemed like forever until a bright red 'ready' button flashed on the defibrillator. "Stand back." Sam ordered. Dean leaned back on his knees and watched anxiously as Sam positioned the pads to the left and right of her heart. The shock made Li's back arch, but when Dean checked for a pulse, they found nothing. Her lips began to turn blue.

"Charge it again." Dean said. Sam obeyed and watched the light blink once more.

Could she actually be gone? Sam hadn't thought that Ali, with her strong will to fight, could possibly have been beaten into submission by a demon after only a few days. She'd rushed headlong into danger more times than he cared to admit that he'd let happen. It was she who'd let Cas into the bunker and patched him up after he nearly killed her. It was she who'd hid in Cas' car when she heard Dean had been taken. It was she who found Dean in the mine after knowing full well what a Wendigo could do. It was she who'd escaped with Dean tucked in her coat after having her shoulder ripped to shreds by the Wendigo. She was the one who'd cared for the toddler when Sam was at the end of his rope. She was the one who figured out how to lure Fisher in.

Sam couldn't believe that she was actually the person on the floor, heart not beating, someone else's breath filling her lungs. He swallowed back something like a rock that had formed in his throat. How could he have let this happen? How could he have lost his grip on the knife and let the demon get away in that motel? How could he have let Dean convince him to do a job while Li wasn't somewhere safe? While Dean was sick? While Cas was grace-less? If they'd have just let her tag along, she would be okay right now, probably dancing as she cooked chili or something and listening to her music in that ugly pink polka dot robe.

This was his fault. Sam knew leaving her with Bobby was a bad idea but he let it happen anyway. In the back of his mind, Sam kicked himself for his foolish mistake and angry tears sprang to his eyes. A deep, hateful sense of guilt bore into his stomach and made him nauseous.

"Is she back?" Bobby asked from the doorway. Cas was nowhere to be seen.

"No." Sam said through his teeth, trying to hide his tearing eyes. "We only tried one shock so far."

"Up the voltage." Bobby said, joining them on the floor. He pressed some buttons and the light blinked faster.

"Come on…" Dean muttered. He was trying to hold back the shock of this new development as he would if he were on a case. However, on this occasion, he found his normal poker face hard to maintain. Glancing at Sam, he saw the same reaction, which didn't help his current state at all.

"It's ready." Bobby said. Dean moved away and Sam positioned the pads once more. The places where they had been the first time were bright red; it made finding the right spot easier this time. Her back arched once more, but again, she fell back to the floor without a breath or a beat.

"Again." Dean said, a little too loud.

The next time yielded the same result, but the thin cord of the defibrillator pad on the right sparked and fizzled. The ancient defibrillator was down.

"Dammit!" Dean shouted, resuming compressions with tears now clearly present in his eyes. He no longer cared. All he could think was how they were losing Li.

"What else can we do?" Sam asked frantically, looking from Dean to Bobby.

Bobby shook his head. "I-I don't know, son."

"Where's Cas?" Sam asked, hoping that maybe he could help.

"Passed out right after you boys left the room. He's in the library, on the cot." Bobby said.

"He probably wouldn't survive saving Ali…" Sam said softly to himself. He shoved the broken machine away from himself and pressed his hands to his head, trying to think. "Do we have any adrenaline?"

"I'll check." Bobby was out the door in a heartbeat and back within a minute. "There was an old injector of it in the kit, but it's real expired. I don't know if it'll do any good." Bobby handed the small, oblong box to Sam, who took the injector out and glanced at the old instructions on the back of the box.

"Worth a shot." Sam said, daring to let himself hope for the best. "Watch out, Dean."

"Go." Dean moved back and watched as Sam slammed the long, thick needle down into Li's chest, just to the left of her sternum, between her ribs and straight into her heart. He pressed the injection button and they listened as the little pen hissed, clicked, and retracted its needle. Sam pulled it away and set it beside him. The three of them watched and waited, as still as Li.

"Come on, Ali." Sam whispered, searching for any sign of movement.

"No no no…" Dean said, pushing some hair out of her face. "Li! Wake up!" He shouted in her face.

There was no response from the girl with blue lips.

Dean resumed compressions.

 **A/N: Review please! Let me know if you liked it or if there's anything I can improve on!**


	36. Family Reunion

**A/N: Vivi here! Glad to hear that you guys are still enjoying this story. I love the reviews and comments. I managed to get to a computer to post this before my hiatus, so I hope you enjoy!**

I opened my eyes and glared at the ceiling. My chest hurt. My leg hurt. My side hurt. Grumpy, I sat up and stretched gently, pushing the covers off of me. Sunlight was leaking into the bedroom around the soft gray curtains. I looked down, expecting to see my normal plaid sheets but instead saw dark gray ones, with a quilted comforter. Looking up, I saw that the walls were light blue, the floor a gorgeous, darkly stained hardwood. Standing, I walked out the door and down the hall. This place seemed familiar, yet so foreign. There was a bathroom, all decorated in gray and yellow and white. An empty room, with painting supplies and drop cloths strewn about the floor and bare sheetrock on the walls. Carpeted stairs with the same color stain on the railings as was on the floor in the bedroom.

A soft noise met my ears and I turned to listen more closely. Someone was crying. Following the noise, I passed a wall of pictures featuring a happy family, or nature scenes, or cityscapes. They looked professionally done, but I didn't have time to look closely. The noise was getting louder.

I paused outside a door and heard the muffled cries from within. Pushing gently, the door opened and swung wide, revealing a stunning, baby blue nursery. There were little elephants and hippos on the walls, a beautiful, antique rocking chair in the corner, a plush, pale yellow rug on the floor that covered the same hardwood that I had seen in the bedroom, and a crib against the far wall with a mobile of little fish above it.

The cries got louder, drawing me nearer to the crib. I walked over the rug and realized I was barefoot; looking down, there were no scars on my feet. I lifted the side of the big t-shirt I was wearing and couldn't find the binding mark scar that should have been there. What had Francesca done to me?

Cries quickly became frustrated screams and I peered over the edge of the crib. A set of stunning blue eyes, wet with tears, looked back up at me and the wailing stopped. I reached down and picked up the infant, dressed in a soft white onesie, and patted his back. Tears sprang to my own eyes; the shade of his hair, not dark enough to be brown but not light enough to be blond, helped me realize where I was.

"Allison?" A voice gasped from the doorway. I whipped around to see the love of my life, his hair perfectly matching that of the boy I held.

"Mark?" I breathed, unable to move. He rushed to me and engulfed me in a hug big enough for the baby and me.

"Ali, what happened?" He asked after a few minutes of just holding each other.

"I don't remember it all." I said softly. "Is this Heaven?"

Mark nodded and brushed a strand of hair out of my face. His eyes were tearing up and my tears had already begun to fall. "I see you've already met our son." He smiled and patted the baby on the back. The little guy had been silent since I picked him up.

"Kole got so big." That was the only thing I could say.

Mark smiled and looked down at him. "Yeah, he's growing like a weed. The angels tell me he'll grow until he can talk, at least. They let him stay in my Heaven."

"Your Heaven?" I asked, rubbing Kole's back and savoring every moment.

"Yeah, up here everyone has their own. No one to bother you unless you want them to. Kole was actually here when I got here. An angel named Gabriel was holding him on the porch and I arrived on the street, I guess. He said he took a shine to the kid. He stops in every once in a while and we have coffee and chat. Apparently he knows one of your friends?" Mark said.

"Cas, maybe?" I guessed.

"Sounds like we have a lot to catch up on. Let me make you some hot chocolate. Everything tastes amazing here." Mark led the way downstairs to a sizable corner kitchen, just off the entry hall. There was a breakfast nook, where I sat to look out the bay window above it. At least five pots with all different types of plants were growing in the window, but I could see that we were in a little neighborhood.

"Is this the house we were looking to buy when I finished school?" I asked. The breakfast nook and window jogged my memory.

"Yeah, took you long enough to recognize it." Mark set a mug in front of me and sat down opposite me with his own. "Gabe told me a few things, by the way. Like why you had black eyes the last time I saw you. And Allison, it wasn't your fault. I have no hard feelings about it. You were an unwilling victim." He reached across the table and pulled my hand away from the mug where it rested. We held hands for a few minutes as he waited for the silent sobs to stop.

"I'm sorry, Mark." I gasped. "I couldn't stop her… I wasn't strong enough…"

"Allison, let it go. It's over now." He said. Oh, how I'd missed his soothing voice.

"But she got me again, Mark." I sobbed. Kole started fussing on my shoulder and I calmed quickly to keep him from crying. "And I think I killed her, but I guess I killed myself too."

"Why don't you start from the beginning- well, after you left our apartment, anyway. I know everything up until that point." Mark said. So I told him about Cas and the barn, when the demon partially left me and Cas took me to the bunker. I told him about Sam and Dean and their lives and how I crashed their party. Mark wasn't happy when I told him I lived with the demon for five months but he smiled when I said they got it out. It was hard for me to tell my late husband about the harmful things I did to myself with that demon still around, and the stupid things I did when it was gone. By the end of my monologue, he was looking into his cup pensively and nodding.

"I'm proud of you." He said when he finally looked up. There was no humor or joking in his eyes. I was surprised. I thought he may have been upset with how close I was to the guys or how I'd tried to avoid telling them about he and Kole.

"For what? Almost killing myself several times and then actually doing it?" I snorted as I caressed Kole's baby soft arms. He was amazing. I had to memorize every feature of my long lost baby.

"No, silly. For protecting the people you love no matter the cost. It must have nearly killed you to live through what you lived through. I'm proud of you for not giving up and choosing to fight every day. And you overpowered that stinkin' demon, which is pretty epic." Mark smiled and sipped his coffee. "And you say you stole a police cruiser and ran it into a tree?"

"Yeah, that's the last thing I remember." I shrugged. "The officer wasn't too happy when I floored it." I felt a smile creep on to my lips to match Mark's.

"That's some video game level stuff, right there." Mark smiled and shook his head. "And you killed the demon on impact?"

"Well, I learned a binding spell from an old book that was supposed to hold her inside me and I was hoping that when I died in the crash she would be killed too." I looked down at my nearly empty mug. "I don't know if she actually died or not though."

Mark was quiet for a few minutes. "Allison, there are a few things I've been wanting to tell you. Things I wished I had said when we were together."

"Shoot." I said casually.

"I was proud to be your husband. You are strong and talented and brilliant and everything I've ever wanted in a companion. You saw my weaknesses and made me better for them. Did you notice the herbs I'm growing?" He pointed to the bay window. "You taught me how to do that. And Kole is growing like a weed, aren't you buddy?"

Kole lifted his head at his name and looked around. I moved him to the crook of my arm so he could see us both. He smiled a little and started blowing spit bubbles. "He's gotten so big." I said.

"Because we did those baby classes, remember? Just because we're in Heaven doesn't make it easy. Allison, you are an amazing mother. You always will be. And I know you can be strong for the ones you love, but I want you to remember something. If you only remember one thing from today, let it be this: be strong for yourself too. You're so worth the effort. I know it's hard, but you have done much harder." He came to sit next to me in the booth and played with my hair. "Allison Melissa Ligan, I love you."

"And I love you, Markus Robert Ligan." I sighed, remembering all the times we would just sit and enjoy the company. "I've missed you."

He smiled weakly and took a deep breath. "I want you to be happy, Ali. Will you do me a solid?"

"What is it?" I asked, thinking he'd ask me to help him paint that unfinished room upstairs or something.

"Let people into your life. Not just the surface, but deeply. Connect to someone on a level like you connected with me. Find someone who makes you happy and gets that cute gut laugh out of you." He smiled and chuckled to himself. I hadn't gut laughed in months; it wasn't pretty, but it was so satisfying. "Stop dreaming about Kole and I, Ali. I can see that it's hurting you and it's not doing us any good. Now I'm not saying forget about us, but don't let the only time you think about us be in nightmares. Tell those guys about the dreams if it'll help. They seem like stand up guys."

"They are." I said faintly. "Mark, I'm dead. Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

He smiled sadly and curled my hair around his finger. "Gabe stopped by before I found you and said you were only visiting. He said this happens sometimes and it's hard for the angels to stop it, so they let it happen. Apparently souls just pop into their closest loved ones' Heaven for a little while because they aren't really dead and can't get their own yet. You're going home, Ali."

"I am home. I can't lose you again, Mark." I said, my chest clenching up and a new pain radiating through it. "I can't."

"Allison, you aren't losing me. I'll see you someday when you naturally make your way up here again. I asked Gabe to let me know when you arrive. I'll go visit your Heaven; he said he'd arrange it." Mark smiled.

"We won't have the same Heaven?" I asked.

"Almost nobody has the same Heaven, love." Mark shook his head. "But I've got an inside angel who can help us hook up." He winked at me.

"But I don't wanna go back." I said softly, rubbing Kole's back and enjoying every moment of my baby.

"From my experience, doing the right thing is rarely fun." Mark said, pulling my chin towards his. He kissed me and it felt like a breath of fresh air or seeing the sun for the first time in months. "But it's the right thing to do. And that's why we do it. Those guys seem like they could really benefit from having a bombshell like you on their side." He smiled at me.

"Mark…" I felt hot tears start to form once again in my eyes.

"You're an amazing mother, a brilliant woman, and a true friend, my love. Go help the world see brighter days." He coaxed Kole into his arms and left me holding just his tiny hand. Kole pouted, but Mark kissed me hard and I let it take me over. I had to memorize how his lips curved to match mine, how soft and warm they were, how I never wanted to leave them…

 **A/N: Review please!**


	37. That Raisin Feelin'

**A/N: Vivi here! Sorry to keep you waiting. My vacation was awesome, though. I hope I didn't leave you at too high a cliffhanger; I was hoping the last chapter would help. We're nearing the end of our story; only a few chapters left before the next tale begins. Enjoy!**

"Come on, Ali." I wasn't even sure if the warped whisper I heard was in my head or if someone else had somehow gotten into the house.

"Li! Wake up!" That was definitely not in my head. What was going on?

Suddenly Mark was blowing air in my mouth and I gasped, choking as the dry air hit my equally dry throat. I coughed hard and clung to Kole's hand, which was now much larger. As I opened my eyes, my old plaid sheets came into focus on my left. I was on the floor.

"Li?" Someone said from beside me. I forced my eyes to focus on the figure leaning over me.

"Mark?" I asked. The hair was right, but the eyes and the face seemed off… Someone squeezed my hand and I tried to lift my head to see my son. "Kole, I'm okay." I said weakly.

"Ali, stay still." Some said. The voice was higher than the first that spoke.

"'kay." I said. My chest burned and throbbed and breathing was difficult because of the pain. My heart was racing and I couldn't figure out why.

"She's still a little blue. I'll get the oxygen tank." A third voice chimed in and I saw a man stand and leave the room.

"Bobby?" I croaked, my voice was starting to give out on me.

"Yeah, good. That's Bobby." The first speaker said. He seemed excited. "Keep breathing, nice deep breaths."

"But he got attacked."

"He got away. He's fine. Everybody's fine, Li. Breathe." The first speaker said. I let my head fall to the right a little and tried to focus on him once more.

After a few seconds, I knew why his eyes seemed off. Green, not brown. "Dean?" I gasped.

"Hiya, Li." He smiled. His eyes were kinda bloodshot. "Just keep breathing, okay? Don't waste your energy talkin' with us."

I noticed Bobby return with a big silver cylinder that had a couple thin, clear tubes running from a nozzle on top. They pushed one of the tubes under my nose; I felt a plastic piece fit into each nostril.

"Is Sam okay? He has a compressed nerve that needs attention." I said. Talking was getting more difficult.

"Sam's fine. They got him to a hospital after you called the ambulance. He's right here." Dean pointed a thumb over his shoulder. Once Dean leaned back a little, I saw Sam sitting against the wall behind him, looking drained but relieved. I blinked a few times. Was that really Sam? He didn't look like he was dying anymore. I wasn't sure he'd even make it to the hospital after I called, but… He looked okay. Actually, he looked great. His face was clean and most of the bruises had faded, no more blood leaking down his cheek. There was even a glimmer of hope in his eyes. My breath caught in my throat and I swallowed hard. Why were my cheeks getting warm? Would my heart ever calm down?

"Welcome back, Ali." He smiled like he was exhausted. Something squeezed my hand again. I looked down and saw that it was Sam's hand that I was holding. I tried to squeeze back, but it was only a weak twitch that I managed. As I moved, I felt a familiar tightening in my right thumb. The silver ring was back. But… Dean had it last I knew, after Francesca threw it away. How did I get it back?

"Where did I go?" I asked. It took considerable effort, but the oxygen was helping.

"Your heart stopped. Long story. We'll tell you later. Now keep quiet and try to get some rest." Dean said.

"I'll go get some water." Sam said. As I watched him stand, I noticed how much it must have hurt him to sit there like that. He was sporting the classic hip dislocation brace and a pair of crutches, with a thick cast over his foot. Relief washed over me as I watched him walk away without too much difficulty. I'd been so scared that he would be paralyzed after an injury like that. Broken bones can easily sever vital nerves.

"I'll go check on Cas." Bobby said. "I'm glad you're back, Allison."

I smiled at him and waved weakly. With them gone, I turned to Dean. "Why am I not dead?"

"What?" He asked. I'd caught him off guard.

"I told you to kill the demon. If I'm alive, it's not dead." I said, matter of factly.

"We couldn't just let you die, Li." Dean said. "And don't worry about the demon. It won't be bothering us again."

"But it's alive."

Dean grimaced. "Only kinda."

"Why is it so hard for me to breathe?" I asked, trying to change the subject so I wouldn't throw a fit.

"I may have broken a rib doing compressions." Dean frowned. "Sorry. Do you think you need a hospital? Is it bad?"

The pain was bad, but not as bad as a bumpy ride to the hospital. I'd live. "No, I'll be fine. If you couldn't kill me then why did I die?" I asked.

"The demon almost obliterated you in your own head. We pulled her out and stuck her in a box but you didn't come back. It's been three days, Li." He said.

"When did I crash the cruiser?" I asked.

"Like a week ago." He said. I was surprised. I'd lost a whole week; no memories came to me from the time I crashed until now. Sam came back as I struggled with my memory. He was carrying a bottle of water. It looked delicious.

"Wow. That must've sucked for you guys." I said. "Hey, is Cas at full power yet?"

"No, in fact he's passed out in the library right now. He woke up just long enough to tell us that your heart stopped." Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam spoke up. "He was awake for like a solid minute before he fizzled out again."

"The demon had another vessel when she took me. Melody, that artist we thought burned. She's a witch and she cursed Cas." I swallowed hard, trying to keep my vocal cords working for just a little longer. "She's going to die soon; Francesca obliterated her and she won't last much longer."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look before Dean turned back to me. "We'll deal with that later. Let's get you back into bed."

Over the next few days, I mostly slept and drank water. Francesca hadn't eaten or drank nearly enough to keep me healthy and it took a while before I began to feel normal and not like a raisin. The guys took turns sitting in the corner of my room and overseeing my activities, which were minimal. They helped me out with changing my bandages and checking the stitches in my calf. While I slept, Sam mostly read on his laptop at the desk, Bobby read books, and Dean watched TV on his laptop. Whenever there was a change in shift, they'd wake me up to make sure I was still alive before leaving me to my next watchdog. No one tried to tell me what I'd missed in that week I was… gone, I guess. Thankfully, they just let me sleep.

Cas hadn't woken up again since I died. By the third day of sleeping all day and night, I was a little less tired. I didn't know what time it was and I didn't care. Sam was sitting at my desk, his chair angled towards my bed where his right foot rested, but his body was fully focused on his laptop. Grumbling, I pushed myself up, trying not to move my broken rib too much.

"Morning." Sam said with a cheerful grin.

"Is it morning?" I asked.

"Uh…" He looked back to his laptop. "No. Eight o'clock in the evening, actually."

"How's the leg?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Better every day."

"I'm sorry, Sam. If I could have stopped her-"

"It wasn't your fault, Ali. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine in a few weeks." Sam smiled and shut his laptop. As if on cue, someone knocked lightly on my door.

"Come in." Sam and I spoke at the same time.

"What was that?" Dean came through the door and shut it gently behind him. He stood at the foot of my bed and faced me. "Mornin' sunshine. How are you feelin'?"

"Fine. My chest hurts, but otherwise, I'm fine."

"Shift change?" Sam asked, gathering his things.

"Yeah. Get some sleep." Dean waited until Sam was out of the room and down the hall before sitting at my desk.

"How's your cold?" I asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Terrible. Runny nose, coughing all the time- I'm sick of this bull."

"I haven't heard you coughing as much lately."

"Fine. It's better than it was, okay?"

"Maybe if you got more than four hours of sleep, you'd heal faster." I said. "Sam told me you couldn't sleep while I was… out without drinking yourself to the bottom of half our collection."

"Sam exaggerates." Dean said, his face hard.

"Bobby doesn't." I said. "He's worried about you, too, Dean. You've been sick for a long time."

"Three days in a frozen mineshaft'll do that to ya." He grumbled.

"Look. I'm fine. I really don't need supervision to sleep all day. Why don't you just go to bed, get a couple hours of rest and check in at like noon?" I asked, sincerely hoping he'd agree. His eyes were red and he was acting lethargic, as if he hadn't slept well for days.

"Li." He leaned closer to me from his spot at the desk. "We almost lost you. Again. No way am I leaving you alone until I know you'll be fine."

"Dean." I leaned towards him, mimicking his posture. "I almost lost all of you. I almost watched that demon break every bone in you. I made it through all that. I think I'll be fine."

He frowned and crossed his arms, leaning back. "I'm not leaving."

I rolled my eyes and felt a wave of exhaustion roll over me. Yawning, I spoke with irritation in my voice. "Then sleep here with me, or something. Just get some rest." I lay back down and rolled onto my left side, avoiding the binding mark on my right and any possible retort from the drained hunter. To my surprise, a few minutes after I lay down, Dean joined me. He was on his back, on top of all my blankets, with his left hand on my arm. I felt his finger trace out an artery and stay there; he was monitoring my pulse. Soon, I fell asleep to his congested snores; he was out like a light.

 **A/N: Review please! I love the feedback!**


	38. Good Morning Angel

**A/N: Vivi here! I'm loving the reviews you guys are leaving. I got a question in one of them that I'd like to answer really quickly about how I came up with calling Allison Li. Here's how that developed in the story: when she arrived at the bunker, they called her Allison. Over time, they shortened it to Ali (with one L because honestly I didn't want to have to type the extra L all the time). When Dean was cursed, he had trouble saying Ali, so he shortened that to Li, pronounced Lee. If anyone has any other questions, leave them below in the review and I'd be happy to answer them! It's hard to enjoy confusing stories, after all.**

Someone was knocking on my door. I started awake and sat up quickly, confused as to who was bothering me. The clock read ten thirty; it wasn't shift change time yet. Dean woke up as I moved and was already at the door. It was Sam.

"Cas is awake."

I followed the brothers into Dean's room, where Cas had been recuperating for a few days. No wonder Dean hadn't slept well. There was nowhere for him to sleep at night. Bobby was on the cot, Sam and I had our rooms, but Cas had his room.

"Welcome back, buddy." Dean said as he entered. "How's the head?"

"Pulsing." Cas said. "Is Allison alright? Did you restart her heart?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Cas." I said, slowly making my way to the chair that sat on the right side of Dean's room. Standing hurt my chest; every step was jarring.

Cas sat up more and looked at me with surprise on his face. I smiled and waved, but he just kept staring with widened eyes.

"What?" I asked as the staring became uncomfortable.

"You look different, Allison."

"Is it the bruises? I was in a car wreck." I said.

"No, your soul… It's different. Brighter than before." He said quietly.

"Well, I was possessed." I said matter of factly.

"You can see souls again?" Sam asked. He was absentmindedly swinging his braced leg from where he stood on his crutches.

"Not well. Perhaps it's my condition that is causing the changes I see." Cas said, glancing from me to Dean to Sam and finally Bobby, who had also joined us.

"So you back or what?" Dean asked, crossing his arms. "I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight."

"Yes, I've recovered enough to function as a human again. However, I haven't regained more control of my grace than I had before." Cas frowned and seemed distraught.

"It'll come back, Cas." Dean said.

"Yeah, the demon possessed the witch that cursed you right before she got to me. Melody is long gone; her vessel will die in a few days, I think, and the curse might fade. The demon's lackeys were trying to keep her alive in case the demon needed a backup." I hoped that my tone disguised the lie I was trying to sell. The guys didn't need to know that Francesca had fully planned on returning to that vessel and keeping me captive.

"I thought we found an article saying she burned to death in her own house?" Sam asked.

"Apparently not." Dean said.

"The demon made a shifter Melody and killed her to cover her tracks and keep hunters away." I said quietly. "It worked."

"So we just wait for the bang and then Cas is back?" Bobby asked.

"Sounds like." Sam replied.

"You said you have a headache?" I asked Cas.

"Yes."

"The same one from before, with the photophobia?"

"Yes."

"Part of the curse, probably. Did pain meds help before?"

"Yes, partially."

"I'll go get so-"

"No. I'll go get some. You sit." Dean pointed a finger at me accusingly and pushed past Bobby.

"That boy." Bobby grumbled before leaning out into the hall and hollering at Dean. "Y'ain't Atlas, ya idjit. Take that weight off your shoulders. You're sick, too."

"Dean is still sick?" Cas asked with concern in his voice. "But I healed him…"

"He's got the same cold as before. Just a case of the sniffles." I said, trying to console the angel.

"I'm not even strong enough to cure the common cold." Cas looked to his hands, held in his lap, and frowned. "What use am I to you that you keep me around?"

"Cas, you're family." Sam said. "We'd rather have you, angel juice or not."

"Yeah, Cas. It doesn't matter how powerful you are. We love you just the same." I said gently.

Dean returned with a bottle of water and the whole bottle of pills, which he set on the nightstand. For the first time, I noticed the little black sports car that Dean used to play with when he was tiny. It was on his nightstand, next to a book and the lamp. No wonder I couldn't find it…

"Thanks." Cas said, still dejected. He glanced up at me again and sighed before looking to the guys. "Would someone catch me up, please?"

"Actually, that would be nice." I said. "I don't really know what happened either."

"Why don't we all put the story together? Seems we have more than one side to see it from. Might as well take advantage." Bobby said.

Soon there were three more chairs dragged into Dean's room and a bag of peanut M&M's had appeared from the drawer of one of Dean's dressers. "Bobby, why don't you start?" Dean said with a mouthful.

"Ain't much to tell from my standpoint. I was doin' target practice with Allison and a shifter lookin' like Dean came up behind me, covered my mouth, 'n dragged me to the other side of the scrap yard. Took him down and looked for the girl but she was gone. Saw a shifter Sam drive away in a new car and a couple shifters in my house and I took off. I was tryin' to find you three when the real Dean called." Bobby shrugged. "Got Sam and Cas outta the hospital, brought 'em here, boxed up the demon with a binding spell and superglued the hell outta that thing. That's my side."

I nodded slowly. They put the demon in a box. She wasn't going to hell just to come back, but she wasn't dead either. I hoped she suffered in that tiny coffin.

Sam spoke up. "We called the house and got someone that sounded like you, Bobby, but he was off. We called Ali and got no answer, so we knew something was wrong. Ali sent a weird prayer to Cas, but we couldn't figure out what it meant. Dean came up with a trap to lure the demon to us and catch it."

"Uh, yeah, I figured the demon was after us so if we just stayed put, it'd show up sooner rather than later. The little bitch was parading Li around like street candy when it found me in a bar. Got it in a devil's trap but it got loose and cracked my walnut, popped Sam's leg out." Dean said.

"That's when I healed the ruptured artery in your brain." Cas said. "And when I passed out."

"So then the demon ran out and we drove a couple hours to get to an old safe house in the middle of nowhere." Sam said. "Dean and I were trying to plan our next move when… I don't actually know what happened. They told me I was drugged when I woke up at the hospital."

"You were roofie-ed." I said. "Francesca roofie-ed you and Dean."

"The demon?" Sam asked, his face colored in disgust. "Why would she roofie us?"

"So you'd hold still while she did things to you."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of torture? What good will it do if the victim is unconscious?" Dean asked.

"She wasn't." I said, my voice barely a whisper. Looking away from them, I spoke with a little more strength. "Francesca needed me to help her with a spell that would keep her in me for hundreds of years and I refused to comply. She was never after you."

Looks of surprise and confusion were passed around the room before Dean spoke. "So she kidnapped me to get to you?"

"To lure me out of hiding. She figured out I was with you guys from other demons you've brushed up against." I said, avoiding eye contact. "I didn't know about it until she possessed me again or I would never have let it happen."

"You couldn't know it was going to happen, Ali." Sam said. "We should have tried harder to get information out of her before we exorcised her the first time."

"You should have killed me." I said loudly, looking directly at Dean. "You should have killed me and her the first time." My cheeks burned with anger and I let the pain my chest fuel the flames. If they'd just killed me the first time, I could be with my husband and son in Heaven. Unless I'd imagined meeting them there…

"For the last time, no one is killing you." Dean snapped. "Not as long as we're around."

"Settle down, spitfire." Bobby said. "I wanna hear her side now. I've got yours already."

"My side?" I asked.

"Yeah, what happened after you got taken from my house?" Bobby asked.

"I'll give you the short version. A shifter that looked like Sam got me into a car and knocked me out. I woke up in a gray room with a one-way mirror and shifter Sam and Dean harassed me before Francesca came in wearing Melody's body. She possessed me and went on a killing spree. Then her minions got your location and she found Dean at a bar. The devil's trap broke, blah blah blah, she sent demons to put flunitrazepam, the date rape drug, in your drinks at the house you found. She broke Sam's toes and beat on you guys and put me out for a while and when I came around I was able to overpower her for a hot second. I sent the other demons away- they thought I was her- and called the ambulance. I stole a police cruiser and carved a binding mark into my side before crashing into a tree. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up the other day." I lied. "So now everyone's caught up."

"Damn." Bobby breathed.

"You overpowered the demon?" Cas asked.

"For a couple minutes, yeah. It hurt like hell. Like literally, she was clawing at the inside of my head and burning me and stuff."

"Wait, wait. You overpowered a demon to save us?" Dean asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. She was gonna kill you."

"That's incredible." Sam said.

"You must have really weakened her. Only took me one shot with a devil's trap bullet to take her down when I found her." Dean said.

"You shot me?" I asked, surprised. Sure, I knew there was a bullet wound in my leg, but I hadn't asked where it came from. "Mister 'nobody is gonna hurt Li while we're around'?"

Dean frowned. "I didn't know it was you. You were across a ravine and I was out there without backup. A guy gets trigger happy, okay?"

"You hunted down a dangerous demon alone?" I asked incredulously.

"It worked didn't it?" Dean said, trying to defend himself.

"He left Sam and Cas out cold in the hospital too." Bobby piped up. I looked to Dean in disgust and stood, hugging my arm around my chest to keep it from jarring so much.

Closing the distance between my chair and Dean's, I slapped him across the face. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to turn his head and surprise him a little. He held his cheek and looked up at me with a hint of hurt in his eyes. "Don't you ever do that again, Dean Winchester." I growled.

 **A/N: Any questions? Did you like the chapter? Comments? Leave a review!**


	39. Six and a Half Months Later

**A/N: Vivi here! I've gotten some comments that the slap was unexpected. It was for me too. Somehow the characters just seem to write themselves; it makes for both awesome and frustrating battles in my head when I try to write specific plot-necessary scenes. Anyway, here's the aftermath! BTW, I only have two or three more chapters before the END of Internal Medicine, but I've already started work on Family Practice, a continuation of this story with new plot lines, antagonists, and characters (both old and new). It's not posted yet, and it may be a little while, but keep an eye out! For now, enjoy Six and a Half Months Later.**

He was speechless. So were the rest of them. I went back to my room and cried red hot, angry tears into my plaid pillow. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock at my door.

"What?" I grumbled loudly into the plaid.

"Can I come in?" It was Dean. Of course it was Dean.

"Fine." I sighed. If he wanted to finish this fight, I was going to let him. Slapping him hadn't been an action I premeditated; I actually kind of regretted it. I hadn't raised a serious hand to any of them before. Surely I'd burned bridges with that one action.

Slowly, he opened my door and closed it after himself. I felt him sit on the edge of my bed. My face was still buried deep in my pillow and I didn't acknowledge his arrival.

"Talk to me." He said.

"I have nothing to say." The pillow muffled my voice, but it also masked the tears and red eyes and embarrassment.

"We both know that's not true."

I didn't move for a while. Trying to stop the angry tears was taking longer than expected. Finally, I gave up on hiding it and rolled over. He didn't seem surprised by my red eyes. I saw that my slap had in fact left a light red mark on his cheek. Dean didn't look pleased about my show of weakness, but he didn't look angry either. I sat up, sniffed my nose, pulled my legs up under my chin, and looked to the plaid sheets. "I'm sorry I hit you. It just kind of happened."

"Forget it. Me and Sam beat each other up in practice all the time. What's this really about?" Dean's eyes bore into my very soul and I almost lost it again.

"You. Recklessly endangering yourself and your family in the pursuit of some heroic high. I haven't even known you for six months, Dean." I said, my voice reflecting my totally plugged nose.

"Actually, it's been almost six and a half months." He flashed a quick, forced smile. "I've done more for less."

"That's exactly it, though. You put yourself in these situations where you either come out scarred or you die trying. Is it just you, or is it a hunter thing? I don't understand why you feel the need to put everyone else's life above your own." I said, letting the residual tears leak out without restraint.

"You do the same thing, you know." He said quietly. "Taking Cas in after he was attacked even though he put the fear of God in you. All those nights you rocked me until I fell asleep because I was sick. I know you were exhausted, too; I wasn't blind. Waking up from being almost dead and the first thing you do is ask about Bobby and Sam. Overpowering the demon to save us while trying to kill it yourself; Li, that's what we do for family."

"Am I family?" I asked, confused. When I was growing up, family was blood and blood was family. I called one of my best friends my sister one time and my mother told me it was wrong. She taught my real sister and me that we could be friends with whomever we wanted, but blood came first. And if they weren't blood, they weren't family.

Dean stood and repositioned himself to sit next to me on the bed, his back against my headboard. "Well, yeah." He reached out and started rubbing my back. The action felt uncomfortable at first, but as my tense muscles started to relax, I melted. I let my forehead sit on my knees and closed my eyes. "I'm sorry, but you're stuck with us."

"Why sorry?" I asked, my voice heavy with a fresh wave of exhaustion.

"We're hunters. We lead dangerous lives. It comes with the gig."

"So… am I a hunter too, then?" I whispered, almost dreading the answer.

"Not unless you want to be. That's your decision to make. I don't recommend it though."

"Why not?"

"This feels like twenty questions now. Just puttin' that out there. Because me and Sam… We wanted apple-pie lives. Ya know, normal job, own a house, have a nice girl, maybe some rug rats to raise… He almost got out, too. And we ended up like this anyway, like a curse. Li, we'll never be normal. It's just something we have to live with. You, though. You could still make it in civilian life. We could put you somewhere, get you a new identity, nice new life, and leave. You wouldn't be stuck with us anymore." He paused. "Li, you could be a doctor. You don't have to ride this one way train with the rest of us."

"Sorry, but I'd rather have you guys. Cursed or not." I said, leaning back to sit next to him at the headboard. "We're all cursed. We all have our demons."

"Actually, we have your demon." He smiled at his own joke. "It's on the shelf."

I rolled my eyes and smiled weakly as I wiped tears off of my cheek with my sleeve. "Can we kill it while it's in there?"

His smile faded quickly. "No."

"Then what do we do about it?"

"Leave it on a shelf. We have to keep the box in good condition or it'll escape." Dean said. I noticed that I'd trapped his arm behind me when I sat up. He hadn't tried to move it yet.

"I have to live with it in the same dwelling?" I asked, my voice thick with anxiety. The tension in my body was beginning to return. Dean must have felt it.

"We'll see if Bobby will take it, okay? Maybe he'll put it in his lock-up."

"Thanks." I said, trying to force the tension to ease up a little. I hadn't realized I was so tense until it released.

"It really dragged you through the mud, didn't it?" His voice was gentle but curious.

"You don't know the half of it." I said, pulling my legs up once more.

"I'm here if you ever want to talk." Dean said. "Or Sam or Cas, they'll listen too. Cas might not be the best empathizer, but he tries."

I smiled. "Yeah, he does. I'm glad he's awake, finally."

"What you were saying about that other witch, is it true? Do you really think she'll die on her own and Cas will get his wings back?" Dean asked.

"That's what I'm hoping. I know she'll die soon. Francesca's shifter told her that much. But I don't know if the curse will lift or if it will become permanent with her death." I said, picking lint balls from my sheets.

"If he doesn't bounce back, we'll figure something else out." Dean said. He pulled his arm from behind my back. "Until then, I think we could all use some R and R. I'm still holdin' out for my own bed tonight." He seemed excited to have his own space again.

"I wouldn't count on it. Cas still seems pretty weak. You might want to seek other accommodations." I said. "There's another cot in the closet, isn't there?"

"You ever slept on a cot from the 1950s? It's like sleeping on the ground, but with more squeaking and bouncing. I'd rather sleep on the floor." Dean said.

"I'll give you some blankets. I have a few extra. Bobby's probably using the spares we gave to Cas."

"Thanks." Dean stood and I grabbed the comforter off of my bed and the blanket from my book bag to give to him.

"This is the blanket you put me in after you found me in that pit." He remarked upon seeing the faded green throw.

I looked up and confirmed that it was indeed the blanket that we'd wrapped tiny Dean in after killing the Wendigoes in that freezing forest. "Yeah, I guess it is. Will you be warm enough?"

"Yeah… Definitely brotherly…" He was still taking in the blanket, but I saw a miniscule smile light up his face.

"Dean, is everything okay?" I asked, moving to stand in front of him.

He looked from the blanket to me and shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. I was just thinking. Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks." He turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm before he got to the door.

"What were you saying, something about brotherly something?" I asked, my hand lingering on his arm.

"It's nothing. Forget it." He smiled and met my eyes. "You sure you'll be okay if I don't watch you sleep tonight?"

"Creepy. Yes, I'll be fine. I'm exhausted." I let my hand drop from his arm and stretched, yawning. "Hey, it gets pretty cold out there at night. You could sleep in here, if you want. On the floor, of course. I'm still mad at you for being a jerk."

"So the slap wasn't enough to forgive me?" He grinned. "Yeah, I'd love to sleep on your floor. It's like an awkward tweenage slumber party now."

I rolled my eyes and gathered some clothes from my dresser. "I'm gonna clean up real quick."

"Have fun with that." Dean threw his pile of blankets to the floor and started arranging them.

The bathroom was empty when I entered. I really hadn't expected anyone else to be there; it was nearing eleven at night and everyone needed all the sleep they could get. However, I was tired of feeling filthy; I hadn't showered since… well, before I died, surely, and probably before Francesca met Dean at that bar. It'd been longer than I cared to admit.

With all my clothing and my towel piled outside the shower stall, I started the water. While trying to keep out of the icy spray until it warmed up, I looked myself over. These past few months had not been kind to my body. Scars from the Wendigo lay puckered and pink over my shoulder, the bullet graze on my thigh was bright red and scabbed, the bullet wound in my calf throbbed as I walked; it hadn't quite sealed all the way yet. The protection tattoos marked my left side. I would have to ask one of the guys to take me to fix the possession one where Not-Sam had cut a piece out. Then there was the angry looking binding mark on my right flank. No wonder there was blood all over my clothes as I shed them. Curiously, there had been a lot of blood in my underwear; I guess my period hadn't stopped when it was supposed to. I still ached, but I didn't give it much more thought; I was exhausted.

By the time the water got hot I was stewing in my own regret and reflecting on my life choices up to that point. As the blissfully steaming water washed days of grease, dirt, and blood from my body, I felt myself start to sing an old favorite of mine.

"Every time when I look in the mirror," I started softly. The feeling of singing was lovely; it'd been so long since I'd actually sung out loud. Familiar vibrations and sensations from the song sent waves of peace through my tense shoulders and into my back. "All these lines on my face getting clearer… The past is gone."

I twirled in the stream and grabbed the shampoo to use like a microphone. My mood usually greatly benefited from these impromptu self-serenades. "It went by like dusk to dawn. Isn't that the way, everybody's got their dues in life to pay…" Taking a quick break, I lathered up my hair and balked at the brown, sad looking bubbles that came back in my hands. "Gross." I whispered before resuming my solo. I decided to turn up the volume; I knew they couldn't hear me from in here.

"I know, nobody knows, where it comes and where it goes. I know, it's everybody's sin. You got to lose to know how to win…" Wasn't that the truth. I sighed and washed the brown goo from my hair. Looking around, I located the conditioner and smothered my hair with it before washing the rest of me, carefully avoiding the wounds that were still open.

"Oh… Sing with me, sing for the years, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears…" I paused to focus on not getting soap in my bullet wound, but the song continued on its own, making me jump and get soap in the wound anyway.

"Sing with me if it's just for today. Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away." Someone tall with no sense of privacy finished my line.

"Shit shit shit." I gasped as the soap stung the raw edges of the bullet's entry hole and I tried to wash it out quickly. "Sam, what are you doing?" I yelled over the roar of the water.

"Well, I was going to try to shower, but then that happened and I couldn't resist. I didn't know you could sing." He said. I peered out from behind my curtain, hiding everything but my face, and stuck my tongue out at him. "Didn't know you liked rock either."

"You're the only one who knows now. Don't give me away, Sam." I smirked. "And you don't sound so bad yourself."

"You should hear me and Dean on twelve hour road trips. It's awful." He smiled hugely; it was refreshing to see him happy for once.

"Well, help yourself to a stall. I'm almost done here, if you want the water warm already." I finished up with a quick face wash and grabbed my towel and clothes, dressing before I left the stall. "It's all yours."

"Thanks. I'm glad you're back, Ali. I- we missed you." He smiled again.

"I missed you guys too. Do you want me to check back if you're not out in a little while? In case you fall?" I asked, gathering up my things; it was an armful.

"I'll be fine. Get some rest." He set his crutches against the wall, concentrated hard on balancing on his left leg, and took his shirt off in one swift motion. I blushed; I hadn't been expecting that, but I wasn't surprised to see the familiar myriad of scars on his torso and shoulders. I made a mental note to ask about them at less compromising time.

The hall was dark when I left the bathroom and did well to hide my red cheeks.

The light was already off in my bedroom, too. Not wanting to wake Dean, I tossed my clothes in my basket and groped around in the dark. Sprawling out on the bed, I somehow convinced my muscles to fully relax and almost immediately fell asleep.

I awoke with a start twenty minutes later, according to my clock, and ambled down to the bathroom. Sam was gone, thankfully, and the light was off. Sleep reclaimed me as soon as I hit the pillow again, despite Dean's congested snores.

 **A/N: Review please!**


	40. Psychoanalyzed at Three in the Morning

**A/N: Vivi here! Sorry it's been a few days since I last posted. Things are crazy once again in my life. This is a short chapter by design, not due to the recent craziness. I'll keep this note short too. I'm planning to do a Q &A chapter (maybe) if I get enough questions or comments in the reviews. Let me know if you have questions! Enjoy the latest chapter, Psychoanalyzed at Three in the Frickin' Morning. (Sometimes I just don't know what to call a chapter and if it makes me laugh I usually call it that even if it's hardly relevant at all.)**

"You aren't my friends." My voice snapped into the darkness. Why was I saying that? It didn't feel like I'd made the sound…

"Did you know I tortured souls in Hell?" Dean asked, appearing to my right and coming too close, towering over me with rage seething off of him. I flinched away, surprise and terror flooding my chest, and backed right into Sam.

"Or that I made Dean take all the beatings when dear ol' Daddy got drunk?" Sam asked. He too came so close that his shirt brushed my arm, and like Dean, anger rolled off of him in waves. What was happening? Why were they so mad at me? I thought we were on good terms…

Did their father really beat them? Why was Sam telling me this now? In the few times that we'd talked about our families, they'd made their mother out to be nearly perfect, loving, and soft and they described their father as a strong, supportive, albeit militaristic man. Never once did they mention abuse. Then again, they didn't deny it either.

"How about the fact that we think of you as a burden because of all the stupid things you've done since we've know you?" Dean said, bearing his teeth at me. He looked ready to kill and it took my breath away. I held my arms up to protect myself and tried to push them away, but they were steadfast and still closing in. That was it. They must have finally realized what a pain it was to keep me around. They were trying to scare me away, make me leave on my own so Cas wouldn't wonder.

"I'm sorry. Please, stop. Stop." I said loudly, my voice shaking with the fear that was quickly pooling my stomach. I thought they were my friends…

"Forget it." They spoke as one with venom that pierced my soul before backing up slowly and disappearing. I was left in a darkness with no top or bottom, no sides, nothing but deep, unforgiving nothingness and a heart beating out of my chest.

Then something touched my shoulder. I gasped and unfolded from the fetal position, sitting straight upright. My arms came up to either fight or protect me from attack. Turning to my right, I saw Dean, leaning over my bed. My plaid sheets covered my legs and I could see the hamper in the corner. He'd turned on the desk lamp. I was still in bed.

"Li, what's goin' on?" He asked, backing up when he saw me flinch away from him.

Deep breaths… Deep breaths… Calm down, girl. "Nightmare." I said after a few seconds. "I'm fine. Sorry for waking you."

It was all a dream. Just a dream. They did care. They did… right?

There was a light knock at the door. "Everything okay in there, Ali?" It was Sam. I glanced at the clock. Three fourteen a.m. What was he doing up? Had I been that loud? Had I cried out in my sleep?

"Yeah, just a nightmare." I called, rubbing my temples in small, achy circles. My chest was just beginning to unclench and I tried to draw in deeper and deeper breaths as it relaxed.

"Sam, come in here." Dean said, not looking away from me.

"What are you doing in here, Dean?" Sam asked as he opened the door and shut it quietly behind him. He looked so confused and equally tired; in the back of my mind I worried that he might slip off of his crutches and do more damage to his leg. I also worried what Sam thought about Dean in my quarters in the dead of night.

"He didn't have a place to sleep and it gets cold out there on the floor." I said. Sam seemed dubious but he let it go quickly enough. Dean was on the floor, after all. There was a pile of blankets and a pillow to prove that he'd at least tried sleeping there. "Is this like a meeting now, or can I go back to sleep?"

"We all know you aren't going back to sleep tonight. You never do after a nightmare." Dean said. Sam took a seat at my desk on the same side of the bed where Dean had been sleeping.

"Ali, what's with these dreams? Dean told me before that he can hear you through the walls at night screaming or crying." Sam said.

"They're just nightmares, guys. Tell me you don't have nightmares about Hell, Dean." I said, staring him down. He looked down, unable to answer. "And tell me you sleep soundly every single night, Sam."

Sam frowned. "That's not the point. We can handle our nightmares, mostly, but yours are tearing you apart."

"What do you dream about? Is it the demon, or the fight with Cas, or what?" Dean asked, crossing his arms.

"Seriously? I'm gonna get psychoanalyzed at frickin' three in the morning by the Winchester brothers?" I balked. "No. Go back to bed."

"Just tell us about one." Sam asked. "Any little bit helps. We just want to understand."

"Fine. This one was about some lies I was told once by some very close friends." I said simply. "Why do you even care?"

"Because you're family, Li. You're like the sister I never knew I wanted. We plan to keep you around for a while." Dean said gruffly. "Let us help you." Sam glanced over at Dean with an expression I couldn't identify. It wasn't betrayal, like I'd expected when he heard Dean's voice in my room. It wasn't anger, fear, approval, confusion… I couldn't place it. It was like something between puzzlement and astonishment.

"I'm fine." I growled, looking away from Sam and back to Dean. "You can't help me with this."

"Won't know unless you let us try." Sam said gently. He shot me the puppy dog eyes.

"Don't do the eye thing." I said with exasperation in my voice. My head fell into my hands and I groaned. Every time he did that I just lost my steam. "Fine. But don't expect me to go into detail about every dream all the time." I lifted my head just in time to see Dean high-five Sam. "Really?"

"Little victories." Dean smiled.

"Can we do this later? I really do want to get back to sleep." I said.

"Think you can?" He asked, doubt heavy on his face.

"Yeah. This dream wasn't as bad as the others." A huge yawn stretched my face out and I looked with blurry eyes to Sam, who was absentmindedly rubbing his stomach. A fresh jolt of panic ran through my chest. Not another illness. Please don't tell me Sam caught Dean's cold. Or that he's having a serious reaction to something. Or that some freaking witch witched him with some nasty curse. Sam had enough to deal with already. "Something wrong, Sam? You don't look so hot."

Sam looked up at me and I noticed he was a little pale. "I was on my way to find something for the nausea from my pain meds when I heard you yell. I've been awake all night actually; can't sleep."

A sigh of relief escaped my lips before I could stop it. Just nausea from his meds. That I could handle. "I'll go get the nasty pink goo. Sit tight." I slid out of bed before anyone could protest and went to the kitchen to grab the bottle from the fridge. The thick pink slop sloshed around in the bottle as I mixed it and took my time walking back to my room. I needed a break, however short, from that uncomfortable conversation. It was too early in the morning for stuff like this. My nerves were stretched too thin from the nightmare and the recent events. Hopefully I could get back to bed soon and try to sleep. I'd at least pretend to even if I couldn't, just to show Dean I was alright.

"Don't you?" I heard Dean say as I approached my door. I could hear a smile in his tone. "We'll finish this conversation later." Dean said to Sam with a wide, mischievous grin on his lips just as I entered. Sam looked embarrassed and didn't look at Dean when he spoke.

"What conversation?" I asked, shutting my door so we wouldn't wake Cas or Bobby.

"Brotherly drama. Nothing to worry about." Sam said quickly, graciously taking the bottle I offered but ignoring the measuring cup that I held out to him. He took a strong swig of the pink gunk and swallowed hard, squinting a little.

"You better not be sick, Sam Winchester." I glared at him as I took the bottle back and put the measuring cup over the lid.

"I'm not, er, not contagious." He said. "Can I take that with me? It's kind of a far walk to the fridge."

"It's yours anyway." I said, giving it back to him with the measuring cup pointedly in place. "Need any help carrying it to your room?" Sam stood and began making his way to my door.

"No, thanks. This isn't the first time I've been on crutches." Sam shot me a smile. And I do mean shot. It was so bright that I had to smile in return. Getting that pink gunk made him look like a kid on Christmas. Absently, I wondered if he ever had a Christmas as a kid.

"We're gonna talk about that tomorrow, Sam. No gettin' out of it." He said sternly as Sam left the room.

"Got it." Sam closed the door quickly and I listened to his crutches click all the way down to his door.

"What's the drama?" I asked, climbing into bed. My feet had gotten cold out in the hall and were very happy to be reunited with the warmth I'd left behind.

"Sammy's got some feelings we need to work through." Dean couldn't hide the smirk. "We'll figure it out tomorrow. Night, Li." He smiled softly at me and I noticed that he looked at me differently than he had the past few days. Somehow, the way the guys had acted in the mere minutes since their little 'brotherly drama talk' was like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders. It wasn't unpleasant… I wondered why they changed, but then a heaving yawn reminded me that it was three in the morning; hardly the time to stay up wondering.

"Night, Dean. Sorry for waking you."

"Forget it."

 **A/N: Don't forget to review! And if you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave them below. You can review as a guest too, by the way. If you don't want me to know who you are, or you don't have an account, don't let that stop you from letting me know what you think!**


	41. Brotherly Drama

**A/N: Vivi here! I've got some big news for y'all: there's only more chapter after this one (I think)! Then perhaps I'll do an author's note answering any questions or explaining confusing parts, or something like that. So if you have any questions or comments, let me know. I'll certainly address them! Family Practice, the continuation of this story, is coming along nicely but also slowly, so when I get around to actually posting it (after Internal Medicine is over) it'll probably be updated once a week or so. Just FYI. For now, please enjoy the latest installment of Internal Medicine titled Brotherly Drama.**

My alarm went off at its usual five a.m., but I silenced it quickly, not want to wake Dean. It had gone off during one of his drawn out snores and luckily, he hadn't stirred. Sitting up, I stretched in the dark and put on a few more layers of socks. My bathrobe joined me as I headed for the kitchen. I honestly enjoyed cooking; it was relaxing to me and I loved the looks I got when my friends enjoyed my creations. For the first time in a long time, we were all together without something sinister looming over our heads. This was the perfect time to celebrate with a king sized breakfast buffet.

As the coffee began to drip, the bacon to sizzle, and the chocolate chip pancakes to rise, I danced to the music from my mp3 player and prepped some eggs. I kept one earbud in and one out so I could hear if anyone entered the kitchen; I didn't much appreciate being snuck up on.

Footsteps entered a little later, just as I flipped over an omelet. I glanced to the door and saw Bobby enter.

"Mornin' Bobby." I said.

"You makin' breakfast?" He asked. The footsteps came closer to the stove and he stood next to me, checking out all the things that were cooking.

"Yeah. I make a big breakfast when we're all here and we have time to enjoy it. Cooking is one thing that no one can ruin for me." I said, smiling to myself. "Is there anything particular you'd like? I can see if we have the stuff for it."

"Whatcha got looks pretty damn good." He said quietly, sounding impressed.

"There's coffee in the corner, at the machine." I said, pointing with my turner. "This will be ready in a couple minutes."

"Seems like you take pretty good care of those boys." He said, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"I just enjoy cooking and patching people up." I shrugged. "They enjoy food and having someone who knows what she's doing around a gaping wound."

"Gotta admit, Allison, when I met you I thought you was scammin' those two. Taking advantage of your situation and moochin' off of them."

"I can see how it might look like that." I said. "I try not to drag them down, but I don't want to be left on the sidelines all the time. Like, sure, I'll do the laundry and cook occasionally, but teach me, show me things to help me survive in this crazy world I fell into. Sometimes I think they see me like a little glass statue, like I'll break at the slightest touch."

"It's in their nature to be protective. Their daddy was the same way. Always keepin' them out of what he perceived as danger, no matter the cost. Sometimes he got it right, sometimes not." Bobby said. I heard him sip some coffee and set the mug back down. "I take it your family wasn't all about sheltering you? Seein' as you can shoot and build cars."

"We were big on preparedness. Dad didn't want me to rely on anyone else and Mom wanted me to be a strong, independent woman. They also kinda thought the world might end soon, or we'd have a nuclear war or something, so my sister and I learned a lot of basic survival stuff. I was… like the opposite of sheltered for most of my life." I said, scrambling some eggs to add to the menu. "Did you know you can make flour out of acorns if you leave them in a stream for a few days to remove the tannic acid?"

"Huh. Thanks for that nugget of knowledge." Bobby said. "How you feelin', anyway? Seems like you're in a pretty good mood."

"I'm doing well. Better than the past two weeks or so." I said, turning off the stove. By that time, it was almost seven. I expected more company to arrive at any moment. "How are you? You said you were in a fight with a shifter." I moved to lean against the counter as we talked.

"Yeah, but I'm fine. Nothin' I haven't been through before."

"Morning." Castiel, in his full hospital gowned glory, stood in the doorway and rubbed his eye.

"Cas, go put some clothes on." Bobby said, turning away and shaking his head.

Cas looked at him, confused, then his eyes wandered to me. "Is this not clothing?"

I tried to hide my smile and went to him. "It's good for a hospital, but not a home, okay?" I guided him back to Dean's room with my hand on his shoulder and threw some of Dean's older clothes on the bed for him. "I hope Dean doesn't mind."

"Where are my clothes?" Cas asked as he looked over the pile I'd set out.

"Still blood soaked probably. I'll find them later and get them cleaned up for you. Breakfast is ready when you are." I said.

"Thanks." I left the angel to properly cover himself.

Bobby was on his second cup of coffee when I returned. I evened out the rest of the pot between two cups and started another brew going. One cup I set on the table for myself and the other went with me back to my room. I knocked softly and heard a stifled 'what'.

"Dean, coffee." I said softly, not wanting to wake Sam if he wasn't already awake.

The door opened a few seconds later and Dean, looking like he slept very well, took it with greedy eyes. "Coffee."

"Breakfast is ready too."

"Breakfast." He shuffled out and down the hall without further prompting.

Sam's door opened as I turned to follow Dean. Sam exited on his crutches, disheveled, wearing a rumbled tee shirt and pajama pants that were torn up to his knee to accommodate his cast and brace "Do I smell food or am I having a stroke?"

"Mornin' Sammy." Dean called from down the hall, still sounding like he was only half awake. He didn't even turn around.

"Hey Dean." Sam smiled at zombie Dean's back.

I smirked and waited for Sam to make his way down the hall. "Yeah, there's food. No coffee for you, though, it'll mess with your meds."

He groaned. "Come on. I'm Sam fucking Winchester. I think I can handle it."

"Cool it, buck-o. The stuff you're on is pretty nasty and I don't want you to have to go back to the hospital. Understand?"

"Alright. Fine." Sam obviously didn't want to go back to any hospital anytime soon.

"Does your tummy feel better?" I asked as we walked along.

"My stomach feels fine." He said. "Did you get enough sleep? I didn't hear anything else, so I'm assuming the rest of the night was uneventful."

"Yeah, I got a couple more hours in. Like I said, last night's dream was different from the ones I usually have."

"If you ever need to talk, I'm here." Sam said.

I smiled to myself. The dream wasn't real. "I know."

Dean was already halfway through one of the huge pancakes when we ambled into the kitchen. I made Sam sit and got us plates. I was about to take my first bite when Dean spoke.

"Wha' 'bout Cath?" Dean asked through the pancake in his mouth.

"He's up. He was getting dressed. I'll go see what's going on." Moments later, I knocked at Dean's door. "Y'all right, Cas? It's been a few minutes."

"My exhaustion is making it difficult to put socks on." He opened the door and looked very discouraged. Dean's socks were only halfway on his feet. The rest of him was dressed, so the sight was mildly hilarious.

"Stand on one leg." I said, crouching down to pull up one sock. "And the other." The other sock made it up too. "Better?"

"Thank you, but I dislike this sensation of feeling… drained and the difficulties that arise from it. I do not envy you humans." He and I started to walk back to the kitchen, but he reached out and stopped me, turning me around. "There is something different about you, Allison. The intensity of your soul has changed and I can't determine the reason." He looked me up and down for a few seconds. I had no idea what to say, so I was relieved when he started speaking again. "Demonic possession does not change the soul of the vessel unless the demon destroys it completely."

I frowned. "I thought you couldn't see souls clearly in your condition."

"I can't, but the change is stark enough that I can see it anyway. I don't know the implications of this."

"Should we look into it? Maybe do some research?" I asked. "I don't feel different from what I felt before Francesca." Shaking my head at the intensity of his stare, I grabbed his arm and tugged him down the hall. "Let's talk about this after breakfast. It can wait until then." I just wanted one normal moment with my friends. Just one normal, healthy, safe moment before everything went bat-shit crazy again. Because inevitably, with the Winchesters, that's where things always ended up.

I had my moment. And it was wonderful. All except for the fact that my coffee made me gag and I had to spit it out. Dean didn't seem to notice a difference in his brew. Bobby didn't either. Maybe the cup wasn't clean.

Everyone went back to sleep after breakfast except Bobby and me. Dean's cold seemed to be improving, I noted. He hadn't coughed at all during breakfast and only once on the way back to his room. It was deep and sounded awful, but it was only once. I was glad all of them were getting some much needed rest.

As for Bobby and I, we just sat quietly in the library and read. I was reading books on Enochian myth and trying to find their take on soul intensity, and Bobby was reading one of our more rare tomes. The boys didn't reappear until well into the afternoon.

"Why don't we have a couch?" Dean grumbled as he entered the library still in his robe. He sat down in one of the wooden chairs and frowned.

"How would ya even get it in here?" Bobby asked, looking up from his book.

"I don't know. Take it apart or somethin'. 'm tired of having my butt go numb on these antiques."

"I agree." Sam came in and joined us at the table. "Doesn't feel great with the brace either."

"That's your superhero name. The Brace." Dean said with a goofy smile. Sam rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Then what does that make you?" Sam asked with a yawn.

"I'm Batman." Dean said with a huge grin. Sam rolled his eyes again but this time, he laughed.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked, once they'd let their giggles out.

"Better on the bed and not the floor." Dean said.

"I forgot how tired I get after drinking a whole glass of milk in the morning with no coffee." Sam said. "You sure milk doesn't affect my meds?"

"Pretty sure." I said, nodding. "Care to join me? I'm learning about soul intensity."

"Why?" Sam asked, leaning in to look at the book on the table in front of me.

"Cas said mine changed after Francesca left and he was kinda freaking out about it. He can't figure out why it changed. I thought maybe I could come up with some theories." I said, pushing the book to Sam so he could see it better.

"Any so far?" Dean asked.

"Not one. None of the books I've looked over directly mention the intensity of the soul."

"Hope that's not a bad thing." Dean muttered. "Hey Bobby, Cas still asleep?"

"Far as I know, the little cherub is still cuddled up in your bed, Dean." Bobby said. "Why you askin' me?"

"What're you reading?"

"Book about ancient demon wards. Some in here I've never even heard of before. Those Men of Letters kept a damn fine archive, I'll give 'em that."

"Sure did." Dean said. "Unless you have no idea how to interpret their system. We're still trying to figure out what crap is and what their labels mean." Suddenly, Dean sat back in his chair and looked to Sam. "Speaking of figuring crap out."

"Can we not?" Sam asked, his face flushing.

"I'm not following." Bobby said, glancing between the brothers.

"Brother drama." Dean said. "C'mon Sammy. Let's talk about our feelings."

"Dean, do we have to?" Sam seemed exasperated.

"Yes. I don't want you to start something and end up in one of those depressing funks again. Come on. We'll talk in your room." Dean stood and led the way, waiting in the doorway until Sam caught up reluctantly on his crutches.

"What was that about?" Bobby asked. He seemed surprised.

"Not sure. They've had family meetings before though."

"I didn't know they actually talked things out. Just kinda assumed they bitched to me about each other and left it there." He said.

I had to grin at that. "Usually they stay out of each other's business, yeah. But I had a nightmare last night and they both got involved when I woke up and then I stepped out and they must have talked about something while I was gone because when I came back Dean told Sam they'd finish some conversation tomorrow."

"Do me a favor?" Bobby asked, locking gazes with me.

"Depends what it is." I said, mimicking his posture and musing over how abrupt that change of subject was.

"I could use another pillow for my back. These chairs aren't as nice as they look."

"Sure. I've got some in the supply closet." I stood and walked down the hall to the closet. The pillows were on the top shelf, where nothing could spill on them; I had to jump to get one down. As I was returning with my catch, I slowed outside Sam's door to catch some of their conversation. I was terribly curious. Their voices were muffled by the door, but I could just make out their words as I walked by.

 **A/N: Please review! Sorry I left off at such a weird place. This chapter and the next run together but are too long to post as one chapter. Anyway, leave comments or questions for my A/N chapter.**


	42. Don't Tell

**A/N: Vivi here! Long chapters are better than short ones, right? This is the longest one I've posted and it is also the final chapter of Internal Medicine. I'm so proud of us, guys. This story has nearly 10,000 views and almost 100 reviews. I can't tell you how encouraging those reviews and your support have been. Writing as passion of mine. One day I hope to be a published author (although that is not what I'm going to school for, oddly enough). This period of my life has been rough but seeing how you guys like my work has lifted my morale in a way that nothing else could. Okay, enough with the chick-flick moment. I'm going to write an Author's Note chapter after this one responding to reviews and questions and giving sneak peaks of Family Practice, the continuation of this story. There's a lot more coming in that narrative that I'm really pumped to write. I've got notes and everything already. Additionally, I'm writing out some of the scenes I skipped from this story (for the sake of plot continuity and time management) that would also work as stand alone fics. They'll come as I write them. Slated to be posted are additional scenes from Dean's curse (that may be referenced in Family Practice), past hunts mentioned by the guys, and scenes from Ali's first few weeks at the bunker. Follow me as an author to stay posted, or check in now and then. I can't wait to see the reactions from this chapter, so let's dive right in to the final installment of Internal Medicine titled Don't Tell.**

"What do you mean, where did I get it? From our conversation last night. You said-" Dean's voice was interrupted by Sam's.

"I never said anything about that. I just asked why you called her a sister, and you told me. End of story." Sam sounded more irritated than he had when he left. Unconsciously, my feet stopped and I moved closer to the door in an attempt to hear them more clearly.

"No, not end of story. You said you thought I had feelings for her with a sad dopey look on your face. How am I not supposed to come to that conclusion when you don't even try to hide it? You're an open book sometimes, Sam. Now tell me what's really going on."

"Nothing is going on. I don't know why you think something is going on." Sam said, too fast. Even I could tell he was lying.

"Sam, I will take your crutches and hide them until you talk. We can do this the easy way or the hard way." Dean said. If that wasn't proof that he was a big brother… "What's going on in that geeky head of yours?"

Sam was silent for a while. "Okay, look. We worked together a lot when you were cursed. I got to know her and… I really liked working with her. She's smart and doesn't judge me when I do something stupid. And she never mom-ed me like she did you."

"Well, yeah, 'cuz you weren't a two foot toddler." Dean shot back.

"Right. So you love her like a sister because being mom-ed pushed you over the edge. You said you couldn't be with a woman who had changed your dirty diapers. I guess I don't have that problem, y'know?"

This time it was Dean who was silent. It was a few seconds before anyone spoke again. I debated heading back to the library, but stopped short as a voice broke the silence. "And you're sure?"

"Pretty sure." Sam said. There was no doubt in his voice.

"I'm gonna need a little more than pretty sure."

"Fine. Really pretty sure. And since when do I need your permission, Dean?" Sam asked, a little frustration leaking into his tone. "Why are you suddenly so involved in my emotional wellbeing anyway?"

"You know if you do this, and she goes with it, there's no going back. Sam, if this ends badly, it could really screw up our lives. The last time this happened and went south, you were in a depressing mope for months." Dean said. Then he spoke in a quieter voice. "Think long and hard before you do anything with that 'really pretty sure' of yours. She's not just some broad and I won't sit back if either of you mess up."

"I know, Dean." Sam's steam seemed to be running out; he sighed. "It's not like I can do a whole lot with this thing on my leg anyway."

"The doctors tell you that?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, in detail. One of the most uncomfortable conversations I've ever had with a doctor." I could hear the grimace on Sam's face. "It was like the talk Dad gave me when I was ten."

"I remember that. Oh man, your face was red for a week." Dean's voice sounded much happier now. "You still thought girls were gross." He chuckled.

"Anyway, I didn't have anything planned out. Not yet. Unlike you, I don't rush into things."

"Well, when you do rush in, don't forget-"

"Really, Dean?"

"Protection is no joke, Sam." Dean said in his parent voice.

"Got it." Sam said quickly. "Hey, Dean? Can we keep this between us?" His voice had changed drastically from what it had been just a minute ago. The tone of the last sentence was one of trust and vulnerability.

"Yeah, Sam. As long as you keep it between yourselves, too. I don't want to see anything that will get burned into my retinas for the rest of time." Dean said with a grin in his voice.

Sam's voice betrayed his relief. "I wouldn't worry too much. Now can we go figure out Ali's soul situation?" Sam asked.

"Right, yeah. I forgot about that." Dean said. I heard him stand and I sprinted down the hallway silently. What was that? I was pretty sure they were talking about me but why? A thought occurred to me: maybe they were going to take me on more cases now. Maybe Sam thought I was ready and Dean had been against it until they talked it out. I really hoped they'd let up on the whole 'don't let Ali get within six miles of danger' thing.

Shortly before entering the library, I slowed and composed myself.

"Thanks." Bobby said, taking the pillow and adjusting it behind him. "Catch anything from their little heart to heart?"

I looked at him with forged confusion on my face. "What?"

"Weren't you listening in?" He asked.

"The pillow was on the top shelf. It took me a while to get down. I'm not as tall as you guys. Sorry I kept you waiting." I said, not wanting to lie to him, but not wanting to admit that I eavesdropped either.

Bobby just looked at me. I could tell he didn't believe a word I said. I sat down and resumed reading my book anyway. The guys came back a few seconds after, Dean holding his laptop.

"So, your soul got brighter?" Dean asked as he and Sam sat at the table.

"Apparently. You'll have to ask Cas about that." I said. "I don't feel any different."

"Find any more books about that sort of thing?" Sam asked. "We can help you look for answers."

"I'll be using the internet, thank you." Dean said. He started up his laptop and began typing away. I pushed a book from the stack at my feet over to Sam.

"Thanks."

The four of us read quietly for hours. Cas never did emerge from Dean's room. By the time our stomachs started to sing, it was almost seven in the evening. I heard the chorus and went to put some burgers on. As an afterthought, I remembered the apple pie that had been in the freezer since before we went to Bobby's house. Gingerly, I put it in the oven and prepped dinner.

Balancing three plates of food, I returned to the study session. "I needed a break. Here."

"Yes." Dean said, greedily eyeing the burger and wasting no time claiming it.

"Thanks." Sam took his and set it aside as he finished reading a page.

"You sure do cook a lot." Bobby remarked. "Don't coddle them too much, they'll go soft on me." He was grinning. I smiled back.

"Like I said earlier, I like to cook. It's a stress reliever for me." I said, turning to go get my own food from the kitchen.

The library floor began to quake, just slightly at first, like someone was walking by with a big stack of books. I stopped and glanced over my shoulder at the guys, who were just as alarmed as I and still seated at the table. The quaking got worse and a sudden, massive heave sent me to the floor. Books were tumbling from shelves and the weapons displayed over them began to shake loose as well, bouncing along the floor like possessed nightmares. Burgers and buns rolled far from their plates and left greasy trails across the floor.

"What's going on?" I yelled as a sharp ringing sound quickly grew to a near deafening decibel.

"Take cover!" Dean shouted. I saw the guys duck their heads and cover up with their arms just before all the remaining books flew violently from their shelves; some of them, those with bad binding, flew apart and left torn pages to fill the air. At least three books hit me; one on the head, making me see stars.

As suddenly as the fit had come on, it passed and the quaking and ringing stopped. I watched as the freed pages fluttered down to the ground, mixing curiously with the little black and white dots that decorated my vision. Pressing a hand to my head, I noticed a goose egg already forming.

"Everybody okay?" Dean asked, his voice thick with anxiety.

"Yeah," Sam said quickly.

"Just peachy." Bobby was okay.

"I-I…" Stammering, I tried to will the spots to go away. Standing was a bad idea; apparently I was dizzy too, because I fell right back to my knees.

"Li?" I heard footsteps run towards me. Dean came to kneel in front of me and lifted my head to look me over. "What's wrong?"

"Book hit my head." I said slowly, wincing as the spot started throbbing.

"What are you feeling right now?"

"Dizzy. Seeing spots. I'll be fine." I looked around and saw the huge mess that we would have to sort through now. Guess the whole soul luminosity situation would have to wait. Then I realized something and my stomach dropped. "Dean, go turn the oven off. If it was damaged the bunker could burn." Without hesitation, he was up and out of the library.

"Y'okay, Ali?" Sam asked. He came over and helped me stand. I held onto his hand as the room slowly spun. After a few seconds, it stopped and I sighed.

"Yeah, yeah. What was that?" I asked. "Kansas doesn't usually have earthquakes, does it?"

"No." We looked up to see Cas standing in the doorway, looking unfazed by the explosion that ruined the library.

"What happened?" Dean asked as he returned and saw Cas up and about.

"Melody Rinninger's vessel has died and her curse was broken." Cas announced, smiling at Dean. "My grace has been restored."

"So you tore the place apart?" Dean barked. Even Cas could tell he was upset.

"I apologize for the mess I seem to have caused. I was unaware that this would happen."

"Welcome back." Sam said. "Feeling any better?"

"In a way, yes. I can access all of my grace, but I'm weak. Not as weak as I was as a human, but more… drained. Depleted. I'll need some time before I will be able to heal your injuries or smite anything." Cas frowned at Sam, then looked to me.

His eyes grew wide and confusion colored his face. A moment later, the confusion disappeared, replaced by worry. "Allison, I need to talk to you. Alone."

"What's wrong?" I asked, gripping more tightly to Sam's hand as the room did a slow barrel roll.

"Alone." Cas repeated, a bit more forcefully. He walked out of the library and I followed him reluctantly, carefully planting each step so I wouldn't fall as the room twisted and spun around me.

I found him in the electrical room after a few minutes of searching. He was fast; I'd lost him after he left the library. "Cas, what's going on? Are you okay?" I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms, trying not to fall over.

"I know why your soul looked different." He said, coming to stand just a little too close for American personal space customs. It didn't bother me; Cas was my friend, but I certainly noticed it. "With my grace restored, it's become clear to me."

"Is there something wrong with me?" I asked, not even trying to hide the growing panic in my voice.

"There is nothing permanently wrong with you. What you are experiencing has been happening since mankind fell." Cas said. "However, I have a suspicion that it was something that the demon Francesca caused."

"So it's not gonna kill me or make me into something evil, right?" I asked quietly, suddenly aware that the guys might be listening in through the thick wooden door.

"There is a small chance that it could kill you and you will be changed for the rest of your life because of it. However, from what I've seen over the ages, the long-term changes associated with this condition are physically minor and behaviorally beneficial in most cases." Cas said.

I waited for him to tell me what was going on, but after a minute of awkward eye contact, I rolled my eyes and sighed. "What's going on, then? Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Are you sure you want to know? This condition is only temporary." Cas said.

"Yes, Castiel, I would like to know what's wrong with me." I snapped.

"Your gametes have combined with those of another human and the resulting blastocyst has implanted in your uterine wall." Cas said quickly.

Luckily, being a biology nerd, I knew exactly what he was talking about. However, this knowledge was not reassuring. My knees began to shake and go weak, and I felt my face get pale. "I'm pregnant?" The question was not for confirmation, but rather an attempt to see if this was a poor excuse for a joke on Cas' part.

"Yes. The new soul is incredibly bright and entirely human. It blocks my view of the rest of your soul in that region. It's only a few days old." Cas said.

Hearing that I was pregnant from an angel was a lot different than hearing it from a pregnancy test. Much more emotional and somehow much more frightening. Mark and I hadn't been trying very hard to have a baby when I conceived Kole, so when Aunt Flo stopping coming around, I was surprised. The pregnancy test was bought and sure enough, I was pregnant. The little lines in bright colors told me so. I was at home in my own bathroom and had been wondering if I was pregnant for a few weeks. It was quiet there and I could gather my thoughts and sort them as they came. With Cas, I couldn't control my thoughts. There was no time to stop and breathe; I hadn't even suspected I was pregnant. I hadn't missed a period yet. I felt like I had whiplash. A few days old? The baby was only a few days old? How could anything but an angel even know that? No test in medicine could detect a pregnancy earlier than maybe five days, even the woman was suspicious. And on top of everything, the pregnancy test was confidential as long as it needed it to be. Cas was a person. He could tell anyone he wanted. Did I want anyone to know?

How had this even happened?

"Allison, I know this is and will continue to be difficult for you. Francesca violated your body and never gave a second thought to the consequences of her actions. Humans cannot conceive while a demon possesses them, but foreign gametes can remain viable in a vessel for days after insertion." Cas paused for a reaction but I was frozen in place, unable to process the new information and come up with a response. "Do you have any memory of who Francesca may have been with? If he's alive, he has a right to know." Cas asked. I could tell he was trying hard to be sympathetic, or empathetic at least.

My eyes wouldn't focus on him but instead were a lifetime away, watching as my arm, not under my control, pushed open an old door to a kids room painted pastel orange. The hour I was shoved away into the darkness of my own mind had been a mystery to me up to this point. Of course, now the blood in strange places on my clothes made sense. The aching I'd been feeling, which I attributed to being thrown over Dean's shoulder as he carried my body to the car after he shot Francesca, suddenly felt more intense. Nothing was ripped or out of place when I'd checked myself, suspicious of the pain, but now it admittedly felt more like muscle pain and less like a deep bruise. I shook my head violently and was relieved by the throbbing caused by that book's excellent binding. The throbbing dulled my other pains and drove them from my mind. "She knocked me out a lot." I really didn't want to lie to Cas, and I knew that he could tell when I was lying, but I couldn't tell him the truth. Did I want them to know?

Cas grimaced and wrapped me in a hug that I hadn't been expecting. After a few seconds, I hugged him back and held on for dear life. I couldn't focus on anything anymore. My breathing became shallow and shaky. I felt like my world was collapsing in around me. How was I going to deal with this? I couldn't seek help. Anyone besides the hunters would call the police and I'd be lethally injected as soon as the kid was born. Maybe I could ask the guys for help? But then, how would they react? They might treat me like a leper, like a porcelain doll, like good for nothing dead weight. I didn't want any of that. I knew the chances were slim that they would drop everything to help me out and it was more likely that they would send me away, or make me live with Bobby or something. "We should tell Sam and Dean now." Cas said, releasing his hold. "I wanted you to be the first to know."

I held on for a second more before he moved away and I let my arms wrap around myself. I spoke before thinking any more. "No. No, don't tell them."

Cas seemed confused and worry lines settled on his face. "Why not?"

Because having a kid would ruin their lives. They wouldn't want it here at the bunker, they'd make me leave 'for my own good', I would be alone again, I was sure; I would be the weakest link until the baby was born at the very least. "Because I want to be the one to tell them." The excuse barely escaped my lips with enough strength to be interpreted as truth.

The confusion left Cas' face and was replaced by a small, sympathetic smile. "Hearing it from you would probably be better."

"But… can you give me a while to wrap my head around this?"

"How long do you need?" Cas asked.

"A couple days, I don't know. Just don't tell them, Cas. Let me do it. When I'm ready." I said quietly. Surely if they'd been listening, they would have knocked or come in by now.

"Okay, but please tell them soon. Humans tend to seek out support in situations such as this and without their knowledge of your condition it will be difficult for Sam and Dean to help you in the capacity that you now require."

I shook my head again to try and clear it, but this time it didn't work. A hurricane of thoughts and fears and what ifs mixed with the dread and panic in my stomach. Whose was it? How could I know? It wasn't Cas', since he said it was human; that was a relief at least. What if I started to show before I could work up the nerve to tell them? How long could I keep this a secret from them? Maybe I could run away, get a job and live on my own, raise the baby on my own… But what if Cas blabbed and ratted me out? Would they be pissed? Would they really make me leave, or keep me around out of pity? I didn't want their pity; I'd leave on my own if that happened. Loneliness was better than a lifetime of being looked down on and having to live with looks of pity every moment of the day. Cas didn't know it was theirs; or did he? Was that why he suggested telling Sam and Dean right away? Would he tell them if he knew? Would he tell them if I didn't work up the courage to do it? What if they made me give the baby up, or took it from me after it was born and sent me away? It would be easy enough to do; I was a wanted criminal. They would just have to leave me at the grocery store and send in an anonymous tip to the local PD. But… Sam and Dean were my friends. They'd even called me family. Hopefully, maybe, they wouldn't send me away or… worse.

But what if Francesca somehow got loose? I'd have to leave, I'd have to get as far from them as possible so she wouldn't be able to hurt them. Somehow, I would keep my baby away from her. I would keep my only blood kin from that demon no matter what, or die trying. There was no way I was going to be possessed by that bitch ever again. But how could I explain having to leave to the guys without telling them about the pregnancy? They'd want to intervene, probably, but there would be no way for them to keep me safe if Francesca ever got away from us. I'd leave unannounced, then. They wouldn't have to worry about a kid or the demon coming for them if they didn't know about either. That burden would be on me.

"Okay, Cas. I'll do it soon. Just let me be the one to do it. Promise me." I whispered, still trying to calm the storm brewing in my head.

"I promise."

My eyebrows rose in surprise. It hadn't been nearly as difficult as I expected to get him to promise his silence on the matter. A promise from Cas was something anyone could bet their life on. I knew he wouldn't tell them. In that moment, I decided not to tell the Winchesters unless absolutely necessary. When push came to shove, I'd leave of my own accord and raise my baby without ruining their lives.

"Thanks Cas." I breathed, wrapping my arms around myself. "It's a lot to process."

"I understand." Cas nodded slowly and left the electrical room. I followed a few minutes after and went back to the library. Bobby was gingerly collecting the swords from the floor and putting them away. Dean was gathering up the pages on the floor and Sam was hard at work separating them out as best he could from his seat at the table. Cas had joined him and had already made more progress than Sam had in the entire time we were gone. There were piles of intact books scattered around the room and Bobby was complaining about his back as I entered.

They were still so young. Sure, Sam and Dean were old enough to be fathers several times over at thirty-one and twenty-seven, but in that moment, as I watched them clean and whine about what Cas had done, they seemed too young to have to be tied down by a child. I was younger than both but if Francesca hadn't come into my life, I would have Kole right now, and my husband Mark would still be alive. I was ready to have a baby, however bad the timing was at the moment. I had been since last year when Mark and I finally decided to start casually trying a few months after my twenty-fourth birthday. Sam and Dean were in the prime of their hunting careers. There was still a lot of saving and hunting ahead of them. How could I damn so many lives by tearing one of them away and putting a kid in their arms?

"Wanna tell us what that was all about? Cas won't budge." Bobby asked as he noticed me lurking in the doorway.

"Uh, oh. He just wanted to tell me that he knows why my soul looked different." I said, shrugging and avoiding eye contact.

"Couldn't clue us all in at the same time?" Bobby pried, glaring at Cas. He was very carefully putting the swords back on their displays.

"Yeah, it seems kind of important." Dean said as he retrieved several pages from around his feet. I watched as something small and shiny fell out of his shirt and bounced as a string caught it around his neck. After a second of contemplation, I recognized it as the pendant he'd worn back when I first arrived at the bunker. I knew he continued to wear it under his shirt, but I was surprised to see it nonetheless. The angry looking head shaped thing had triggered a panic attack just days after Cas brought me to the Winchesters; Dean had tucked it in his shirt and he and Sam tried for hours to calm me down afterwards. Eventually they put a movie on Sam's laptop and sat on either side of me until I stopped shaking. I'd never seen Monty Python before that.

"He wanted me to be the first to know." I said flatly, staring at the floor after snapping back to reality. Dean hadn't noticed the pendant's resurfacing. I didn't have a problem with it anymore. It was kinda cute now.

"And?" Sam piped up. "Why is your soul different?"

"It's not actually different. Just something the demon did. It'll fade back to normal soon enough." Not technically a lie… Still, Cas frowned at his stack of pages as I delivered the half-truth.

"Is it… hurting you? Doing damage?" Sam asked. He seemed very concerned. I wondered why.

"Yes." Cas said, not looking up from his task. "However, no permanent damage should be done. A few external lesions, organ compression-"

I glared at him and he stopped short. "No, it's not hurting me. And it's only changing a few things. I'm fine. I'll be even better once it fades."

"Well, when will it fade?" Sam asked.

"Is this twenty questions? It'll be a few months, okay? I'm fine, I feel the same. Just… forget about the soul thing." I said, letting a frustrated sigh escape my lips.

"Glad to hear you're not on the chopping block." Dean said, shoving a sizable pile of pages at Sam, who promptly pushed them towards Cas. They went back to work picking up pages. It seemed that was all the explanation they needed. I hadn't expected it to be so easy. My vision had stopped spinning, so I joined them in clearing the floor and returning the good books to their shelves.

We worked for a good hour before the floor was cleared. The work helped numb my mind; it was finally calm just in time for my back to start aching from picking up so many loose pages. Dean left the room halfway through but no one questioned it. We didn't know where he was going, but it didn't really bother anyone. He'd had a violent coughing fit just before leaving the library, so I figured he was going to take some medicine and maybe sleep it off. When he returned, however, it was smiles and eager stomachs all around. "Oven's fine." He brought in burgers, four at a time, to replace the ones that had fallen to the floor in the Cas-quake.

"Awesome." I said, taking a huge bite. The burger was actually fantastic. I hadn't expected Dean Winchester, of all people, to be able to cook like that.

"The pie's fine too. Saved it just in time." He winked at me and dug into his food like the rest of us.

"Sounds like a good way to wrap up a crap-tastic day." Bobby said in his usual grumpy voice.

"Today wasn't so bad." Sam said after swallowing his latest bite. "We got Cas back, Ali isn't wasting away, nothing is actively trying to kill us. Seems like we're alright for a change."

"Ya got a point." Dean said, mouth full. We ate in silence for a few minutes. "Hey, Cas. I got a question." Dean said suddenly, his burger blocking my view of his face. "Why did Li's soul change? What exactly did the demon do?"

Cas sent me one of his classic what-do-I-do looks and I spoke up, thinking quick on my feet. "The terrible things she did to some of her victims got to me and started some reaction." I said softly, trying to seem as uncomfortable as I was. "Do we have to talk about it now?"

"No… no. You know what? As long as you're okay, as long everybody's okay, just forget it."

If only this were something I could just forget.

 **A/N: I hate the ending too and I wrote it. Just puttin' that out there. It seemed like an effective note to end on, but fear not: Family Practice is coming soon! Keep an eye out for it. It may be about a week from this posting though, as a separate story. As always, I can't wait to see your reviews, comments, questions, etc! Thanks for sticking with me through this monster of a narrative! Sneak peaks of Family Practice may be in the Auther's Note Chapter at the end of this story, which is also coming soon.**


	43. Final Author's Note

**Final Author's Note!**

 **Vivi here! Happy Friday! I really hope you enjoyed Internal Medicine. This was my first fanfic but is by no means the first story or novel length narrative I've written. As promised, this is the Author's Note chapter I've alluded to in the intro to the past several chapters. I thought about starting out with a review of the characters in my story, since there seems to be some confusion as to who is who. I've also gotten some questions that I'll address, and I'll add some sneak peeks into Family Practice at the end. Those will be fractions of scenes I've already written for the story, in no particular order. If you want to skip any of these sections, feel free. They're underlined by heading. Please don't think me conceited for wanting to explain my characters or answer questions in this way. This note contains no additional plot for IM but does have some for FP, so read as you please! Thanks for sticking with me so far! So without further ado, here we go!**

 **Character Review**

Canonical Characters (at least I think that's what they're called):

All canonical characters originating from the show Supernatural obviously don't belong to me. I may write with them, but I do not own them.

\- Dean and Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby Singer – you know them, of course. No description needed!

\- Mentioned briefly but never actually 'on screen' (just wait for Family Practice): Jo and Ellen Harvelle, Gabriel, John Winchester, Crowley

Original Characters: 

Please be aware that all the character's I've created belong to me. Please don't rip them off or copy them. What's the fun in stealing a character when you could create one all your own?

\- Allison Melissa Ligan – our main protagonist. We first meet Allison a few months after she's arrived at the bunker after having been possessed and brought to the Winchesters by Cas. During the first few chapters, she's unwittingly possessed and her oppression makes for some very strange behavior. The Winchesters eventually exorcise her, and she becomes the character we all know and love. This quick-witted, kind-hearted, ex-medical student serial killer becomes fast friends with the boys and even hunts with them, against their will of course. Her flashbacks and nightmares make every day functioning more difficult, but she's slowly coming to terms with her new life.

\- Markus Robert Ligan – Allison's late husband, killed by the demon Francesca just minutes before she is tracked down by Cas and nearly killed. Mark, as Ali calls him, is referenced early on the story when she reveals that she was married before arriving at the bunker. Later on, we see Mark through Ali's eyes in several dream scenes, where Ali is visibly pregnant and glowing with happiness. Near the end of the narrative, we meet Mark for the first time in Heaven after Ali's heart stops in the bunker. Mark is living in his own Heaven in which their unborn son Kole has been permitted to stay. The house is idyllic and was one that the two of them looked to purchase before Ali's possession and Mark's death. Mark pleads with his former wife to move on after his death and "Help the world see brighter days."

\- Kole Ligan – the unborn son of Allison and Markus Ligan. He is killed in the womb by Francesca, who unwittingly possessed Ali whilst pregnant, which instantly killed the boy. Cas unknowingly removed his lifeless body from hers when he repaired her after he thought he exorcised the demon. We know Ali mourns the loss of her husband and son, and the loss of her son is pronounced as she cares for de-aged Dean. We meet Kole for the first and last time while Ali is in Mark's Heaven. Kole is no longer a developing fetus but has been aged into a newborn infant by Gabriel, who has taken a shine to the kid. Gabe allows Mark to raise Kole in his Heaven and Ali loves on her unborn son the whole time she's there. When she is called back to earth, Mark takes Kole and Ali wakes up in her bedroom after having just been revived. (Point of confusion: I'd like to clear something up really quick. Kole was conceived well before our story begins and he is killed before Ali enters the bunker. In the last chapter of Internal Medicine, we learn that Ali is once again pregnant. Let it be known that it is NOT Kole or Mark's at all. This confusion will be addressed in more detail in the Q+A portion of this Note.)

\- Allen Fisher – a witch who works for Francesca whilst attempting to capture Allison. We first see the results of Fisher's work when we see de-aged Dean in the mine with Wendigoes. Upon his rescue, Dean is sick and is later taken to a local clinic by Ali. Fisher is impersonating a doctor and attempts to kidnap both Allison and Dean. However, Allison escapes with Dean and is rescued by Sam and Cas. Later, the crew traps Fisher in the forest and take him to the bunker, where he is ultimately killed, releasing Dean's curse.

\- Melody Rinninger – an up and coming artist and witch who is possessed by Francesca after cursing Cas with a binding spell that kept him from accessing the power of his grace. We first meet Melody as Francesca wears her to meet Allison after she is kidnapped from Bobby's house. Melody's soul is destroyed by Francesca and her body dies after a few weeks of being unoccupied as Francesca wears Allison and is trapped in the box. Upon Melody's death, Cas is freed from his curse.

\- Francesca Rimini – an ancient demon from the Second Circle of Hell who escapes and possesses several of Allison's ancestors. We first know of Francesca as she is exorcised from Allison after five months of oppression. Later, we learn that Francesca was responsible for the deaths of everyone Allison has killed; all her family, her friends, the students at her college, the people at the truck stop, and all the men she kills before being captured by Dean. In Allison's body, her death toll is about 99. Francesca desperately wants to be with Allison forever, but needs one more ingredient for a spell to make Allison's body strong enough to last the ages. She gets it started, but is captured before it's prime for reaping…

\- Allison's Family – they're all dead before we even start the story. Francesca killed them in cold blood before being nearly exorcised by Cas. Allison mentions her four grandparents, both sets of parents and step-parents, younger sister, fifteen cousins including her only female cousin Brit, and five sets aunts and uncles. Additionally, her husband and son, and Basil, Issac, Katie, and Mica, who were her closest friends. Several of her ancestors are also mentioned, including Carolinda, whom Francesca possessed hundreds of years ago.

\- The Unique De-aged!Dean – in all his snotty glory, I'd like to think I shaped a new character in this version of Dean, but not if it'll cause me trouble. We first meet this Dean in the mine, being hunted by two Wendigo. He and Allison grow close and that friendship and brotherly love remains after his curse is broken.

\- Tim the Tattoo Guy – Bet you forgot he existed, didn't you? He gives Ali her tattoos late at night with Cas in the background just before they head out to find Dean in the mines. I'm hoping to bring Tim back in some form in Family Practice, but I'm not sure yet. (I'm open to suggestions though!)

 **Now for the Q+A!**

I realize that my writing isn't perfect, far from it! That's why I want to take a few paragraphs to address some common questions I've received so far in the reviews. Let's get started!

Thanks to Beachwishen, Demona Evernight, BonanzaRocks, SilverZelenia, and two Guests for the questions!

1) He… HE SHOT HER?!

a. Yes. Dean shot Allison. In his defense, he was tired, drugged, edgy, and unaware that it was her. Sorry for the shock, but it did its job and honestly, I didn't know it was coming before I typed it out. Surprise!

2) aww poor sam! I'm a bit confused. Is Dean now a normal toddler? or does he remember he is an adult trapped in a toddler? or does it come and go like it seems to be doing?

a. Good observation! Yes, his consciousness as an adult does come and go. As explained after this question was posted, Dean has trouble concentrating as a toddler. Every emotion and stimulus is much more intense and he is more likely to concentrate on his miserable cold, his toy car, or his crayons than on helping the team with their investigation.

3) How are you getting Li ? Are you pronouncing it Lee like short for Allie? or Li like in lick? Its just one I haven't heard before

a. Nice question! The nickname kind of developed on its own. Obviously Ali is short for Allison (I write Ali instead of Alli because it's shorter and I don't want to write the extra L all the time.) Then when Dean was de-aged, he had trouble saying Ali and Sam, instead choosing to say Li (pronounced Lee) and Am or Ammy. The nickname (used exclusively by Dean) just kind of stuck after his curse was lifted.

4) The next few questions are pretty similar, so I'll group them together but answer them separately. They're about the little surprise that was confirmed in Don't Tell.

a. absolutely love this story! I have ignored all logic and the fact I have work tomorrow and stayed up till 5am to finish it!...I may regret that later lol But I gotta know Is. Ali. Pregnant?! And you seemed to hit that it would be Dean's if she was. How would that strain their relationships seeing as you've now had Dean fall into the big brother role and Sam as potential lover.

i. I love when readers catch on to the plot twists before I even write them! Yes, as explained after this review was posted, Cas tells Ali she's pregnant in the last chapter. I won't speak to the paternity at this point- that's strictly for Family Practice!

b. So curious to see if the baby survived! And to see whose baby it is...I want it to be Sam's because that would make things more interesting but it makes more sense for it to be Dean's...Love triangle! ahh love it

i. I love it too! And yes, the baby survived Ali's stopped heart. Like I said, I won't reveal the paternity just yet. You'll have to wonder until well into FP!

c. So I'm confused is it one of the boys baby or is it her husbands where she saw him in heaven

i. Sorry, but the little fella isn't Mark's. He and Kole are still firmly stuck in Heaven and I have no plans to bring them down. They're happy there and I'd like to keep them that way.

d. Are we supposed to know who the dad is? I have a really bad memory!

i. No, you aren't supposed to know off the bat. She gives a hint in one of her rants, but it's pretty subtle. It has to do with the abandoned house that Francesca used as a base for like a day. Also referenced earlier in the story are strange blood stains found by the boys and Ali. Here's the excerpt where it all comes together, found in Don't Tell: 'My eyes wouldn't focus on him (Cas) but instead were a lifetime away, watching as my arm, not under my control, pushed open an old door to a kids room painted pastel orange. The hour I was shoved away into the darkness of my own mind had been a mystery to me up to this point. Of course, now the blood in strange places on my clothes made sense. The aching I'd been feeling, which I attributed to being thrown over Dean's shoulder as he carried my body to the car after he shot Francesca, suddenly felt more intense. Nothing was ripped or out of place when I'd checked myself, suspicious of the pain, but now it admittedly felt more like muscle pain and less like a deep bruise. I shook my head violently and was relieved by the throbbing caused by that book's excellent binding. The throbbing dulled my other pains and drove them from my mind.'

Finally, the moment I'm sure at least some of you have been waiting for…

 **Family Practice Sneak Peeks!**

There are a few scenes that I've already written, but of course I can't reveal all my plot points here! So these will just be teasers, from a few different points in the story. You'll have to wait chapter by chapter for the full reveal! Enjoy!

Sneak Peek 1:

I blushed and tried to control my eyes. Sure, I knew Sam was gorgeous and every time he walked by my door in a towel, the room got a little hotter, but I hadn't really noticed it until I woke up from my trip to Heaven. If he was losing muscle mass, I sure couldn't tell. Before I could stop myself, my eyes went to his anti-possession tattoo. Ours were the same, and Dean's was too. I had to close my eyes for a second to get them to focus on Sam's face. He was smirking at me. Damn it. "I want to help. You could use a fourth wheel, right? Add a little stability to your tricycle of crazy?" I returned his smile.

Sneak Peek 2:

"The string of murders ending in Minnesota earlier this month have been linked back to Allison Melissa Ligan, the mass murder whose story we covered back in December of last year. Ligan is now responsible for an estimated ninety nine deaths." A news anchor's charismatic voice filled the small shop just as I entered. There was a little TV in the corner of the room. A police officer popped on the screen as soon as the anchor stopped talking.

"We were really shocked to learn she was a medical student. The killings were all so violent. The sooner we get her off the streets, the better. I mean, who knows where she's gonna go next? The murders seem so random-" The officer's audio was cut off and the screen returned to the anchor. There was a large picture of me next to him. It was one of the ones I'd posted online during happier days. I was smiling, you could see Mark's arm around me. They must have cropped the photo.

"If you see this woman, do not approach her. Please call 911 immediately." The photo changed to a freeze frame of security footage from the hotel that Francesca had retreated to after the guys tried to exorcise her in that motel. It was blurry, but it was clearly my body. "For more information, please visit our website or . Twelfth graders from a local high school raised five thousand dollars to benefit…" I tuned out after my story was finished.

"Hey lady." The cashier waved his hand in front of my face. I'd come to stand at the counter to listen to the TV and he'd just looked up from his newspaper.

Sneak Peek 3:

"It's just nightmares. I'll get over it." Dean tried to leave again but my hand still had a tight grip on his bicep and I held him where he stood. He glared at me but I stood on my tip toes and brought my lips close to his ear.

"If you don't tell him I will." I hissed quietly, my voice donning a now-or-never firmness.

Dean rolled his eyes. He took a deep, albeit shaky breath, and spoke. "I get it, fine." He shook my hand off of his arm and glared at me once more before looking past Sam and into his room like he couldn't make genuine eye contact. "You know about the nightmares."

"Yeah, but you don't tell me a whole lot." Sam said.

"And I won't. Those gory details are all on me. You've never been to Hell. You wouldn't understand." Dean said with an edge to his voice. I elbowed him when he stopped speaking for a few seconds. He sighed and closed his eyes. "I was just telling Li…"

 **Well, I hope you enjoyed this little closing Author's Note to IM. I'll still answer any questions or comments you have about IM; just leave me a review! And don't forget to follow me as writer so you'll know when I post Family Practice! Until next time, I've been Vivi and this has been Internal Medicine!**


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